Remaining With the Dead

Remaining with the dead
that’s what I do
Things die every day
So what is new?

First it was the old tree
It left me so soon
A needle in its lungs
Just like a balloon.

Next it was the young tree
It was as old as me
The car rolled on top of it
It left so suddenly.

Then it was three trees
They were dear to me
Different fates in one year
All a family.

I’m still a living tree
With all this in my head
Still doing what I do
Remaining with the dead.

First published in Finding Myself: A Journey (2004).