To Thy Old Birch Tree

To Thy Old Birch Tree.
 Ever since I was three.
 You have been standing  
 behind my grandfather's old
 tool shed.

 To Thy Old Birch tree.
 The one with the old tire swing.
 Where when I was nine, I tried to
 built a tree house. Lost my footing and
 broke my wrist and fell upon a bed
of leaves.

 To Thy Old Birch tree.
 The one among a field of dandellions and
 mushrooms.
 Where in thy bark hides the initials
 of my first love. Had my first kiss.
Leaves fallen, icicles built upon your branches although bare. Drips away dead winters wrath. In the warmth of spring sun.

 To Thy Old Birch tree
Home to thy wandering gnome.
 Hiding in grandmothers rose garden.
The curious dragonfly that flies
 beneath it's leaves, sways care free in the glistening sun. That old treehouse with roots growing througj its wooden frame.
 Has become a haven to thy robins nest.
 

 To thy Old Birch tree. It's been 40
 years now. Wondered each day I come back to grandpa's back yard. Broken down pavement. Dry patches of dead grass damaged from the same crop circle where I left my inflatable pool for 3 weeks. When I was thirteen grandfather was not pleased, but laughed at my gesture trying to cover it up
with fallen leaves.
 
I stand before thee Old Birch tree
 although bare, withered and fragile.
The sun's rays shine a bit of warmth.
Casting a gentle glow among the branches.
Come back to visit my grandfather's
 grave stone. Dry daisies lay beneath his tombstone. His old flask where he hid his bourbon. Smell of barley and caramel.

 On his tomb stone reads;
" We are born from this earth and from
 this earth we are one and when we
 leave this earth. We leave our memories
and go back home." To Thy Old Birch tree thanks for making this my home.

To Thy Old Birch Tree.
Keep my family close.
Keep the memories of grandfather ever lasting. For my future grand kids to see
Tool sheds gone.
All that stands is an open field of daisies.
The same old Birch tree stands withered
and bent.

I still see the rope, but no tire.
Still see a glimpse of the treehouse broken down. As I walk back the house I turn back to see.
Grandfather smiles back.
Beneath the Birch tree.