| On passing |
| I saw a tree stump and I mourned Its bark green-slimed with age Small rivulets with cracks adorned Too well I read this page For once the spreading leafy rows A claim laid to this spot Too well had grown its lacy boughs Where they were wanted not Too easy now the axe to wield The proud limbs to lay low What matter then the grassy field What matter years to grow? I knelt amid the dewy grass Each ring to touch and sum Fifty seasons to amass One day to tear it down But now my vision telescoped A movement caught my eye This still alive? I dared not hope To hear the leaves� soft sigh Yet true! amidst that greenery One ant and then one more And then a whole menagerie More lively than before Within the crack from which they poured A beetle swift and lean Quickly hid � but in the cord A hint of willowy green Above me sang the ghostly boughs At this I laughed out loud For now I knew this faded house Would once again be proud All mankind�s work could not destroy So no more did I sorrow The nuisance tree he tried to slay Would still have its tomorrow |
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| � 2003 Kyle Altis. All rights reserved. |