As I peer out my window every day,
I find it hard to believe
that you really are sick, that you really are
suffering.
Throughout the seasons, you've stood there strong,
as if nothing were wrong.
You’re in hospice and you keep living-
forever.

First your tiny green buds would emerge,
indicating that you were not yet gone, that you were
still growing.
Then, within the week, your
true beauty would emerge,
the leaves that would act as your intravenous’-
to help provide water and nutrients to your limbs
during the length of summer.

I still watch you to this day, hoping that
you can hold on,
hoping you have strength.
Even when I think you have lost your spark,
after your leaves have fallen, leaving you bare,
after your limbs have seized growing,
I pray that you have the strength
to come back again
next spring.