In spring it sprouts its tender, green shoots
With a gardener’s soft, whispering touch
In summer it flourishes:
Strong, brown branches clothed in a silk green garment
It takes a few years of careful tending to mature
I remember playing hide-and-seek; climbing
up thin branches, or crouching in the undergrowth.
I think I was too young to understand back then: I thought of time
as a steadily growing tree that I hadn’t yet started climbing.
Once, you saw my head peeking out from the apple tree.
I'd like a tree to mark the spot Where I am laid to rest For that would be the epitaph, That I would like the best.
You said that soon, I’d always be looking down at you like that; that time passed too quickly. I think I grew younger
You told me once that growing up was like walking up a downwards escalator.
My heart is glad, my heart is high with sudden ecstasy!
Grow thou and flourish well, Ever the story tell of this glad day;
I have given back, before I die, Some thanks for my lovely apple tree