a friend
terry roberts 1.8.2000
snow trees standing
gray brown green
pine, alder, maple, oak
my old old apple tree friend
wise bare of pretense
thick with age and bearing
tire once hung from branch
swing now long gone to firewood
not straining to live
not anxious at mortality
never grieving over the
tastelessness of its apple
mocking my anger
with equanimity and quiet
daring me to be still
to be winter naked and summer flush
arousing rememberings of childhood
while suggesting memories worth
lessness, not captivated at all
by suffering, by rage, by bliss
older than old, more silent
than silence, knotted yet not
bound, part of the sky
Deeply, blessedly part of me.
