The tree

The tree on Fourth and Main
Will turn 80 next week.
Of course the passerby’s
Don’t know or care;
But she did just like
Yesterday.

She was turning 87
Next week and feeling
A step away from heaven
Yet the memory is fresh
Right after school the first
Warm day.

Eighty years ago in spring
Dad said, “We need a tree
Out there this year.”
Mom wanted blossoms
Something purple
And bright.

Dad wanted just a steady oak,
She exclaimed “no shade for years,
And just attracts squirrels”
Ah but we’re here
For the long haul and
He won.

Dad nurtured the tree making
It stronger every year until
It stands tall in a city
Still small overlooking the
Mighty Mississippi
From a hill

So she sighs looking out the window
Its cloudy and no one will come
No visitors today but that’s ok,
Alone like that oak
She sits tall and ponders
Her history.

By Dave Schipper © 2012 Rose Riversongs