shades of brown bark lead up to the great green
his arms reaching up for the sky
his face looking down to me
solemn expression in his eyes

surrounded by spades of lime sprinkled with daffodils
not wanting to disturb the peace
he is stuck in solitude
for no one attempts to climb the hill

from far he stands tall and grand
admirers come from a far
i come up close and see it grows
difficult for him to stand

one hundred years since he stuck his roots deep in the ground
the world grew up around him
disregarding his presence and beauty
not pondering the subject
the world assumes he stands safe and sound

alone, alone he will stay
forever and a day

what would become of him if I were to climb his trunk
perchance he may befriend me?

i will appreciate his beauty
he will appreciate mine
alone, but together

and when I die I’ll bury myself next to him
soon after, from my body I will grow him another friend