Their youthful eyes knew early of the tree;
its sturdy trunk supporting growing boughs.
Beginning days beneath its shade were free
from worry’s heat that oft oppresses now.
Time’s rings increased, though some were thinned by storms
of drought, still most grew broad throughout the reign
of brighter suns and kinder winds, the norm—
when joy was full, and life was only gain.
Those youthful eyes grew wiser and mature;
they sought out lands beyond the old tree’s shade.
Yet distance cannot lessen the allure
of what once was, and childhoods well made.
The yard seems empty now without the tree;
an emptiness that’s full of memories.