The old tree stood overlooking the rivers.
Well, I guess I thought it would stand there forever.
I went looking for it yesterday, but it was gone.
It really didn't matter because it lives on...
in me, and I have planted it in others,
relatives, friends, their sisters and brothers.
It was meaningless to anyone else, I trust.
But it stood as a sanctuary of comfort for us.
It shaded papa when gardening was done.
It hid little brother after mischievous fun.
Its branches reached down to sister and I,
inviting us to climb into the sky.
It was my escape from reality,
sitting up there in that old tree.
I could watch the river flow around the bend.
It felt closer to me than any best friend.
Mama always knew where we would be,
somewhere close to our family tree.