The Lonely, White Birch Tree

One Lonely, White Birch Tree,
stands and sways,
between the gray heads
of the graves

On its right,
a woman lies
who in her life
told too many lies

Left of it,
a man does lay
who in his life
his wife did betray

Both now dead
buried and forgotten
their stones moss covered
their corpses rotten

Between the two,
no child does reside
the woman, beaten
her fertility had died

Their only living seed
a haunting, rare, beauty to see
feeding on the remains of its parents long-gone
stands The Lonely, White Birch Tree.