The Sycamore Tree

The Sycamore Tree

By John w. Vander Velden

 

Alas poor Sycamore, I knew you well.

But a sapling at our first meeting,

Limbs reaching skyward.

How tall and proud you became,

Grand sentinel of the yard.

Broad your branches that freely offered shade and shelter.

But the storm proved too much,

And your strength insufficient.

Torn and shredded, only a remnant remained,

Now that too has come down.

Though only a stump remains,

Dear friend, you live in our memory.

As we mourn the passing of one we knew so well.

(84 Words)