A part of my me-ness

Left alone
special amidst
the clearcut
my ancestors laboured
by hand for land
to grow healthy
potatoes for
the church.

A ghost swing
branches too brittle
in my time ragged
bark traced by young
fingers observed quiet
life then death daily
in infinite time.

My dad napped
spent under the sparse leaves
though the thunder sang
scared and glad
my brothers and me
laughed relieved
when the rain slapped him.

I don’t live there
anymore but his tree
belongs to me and
it’s a landmark in my
community more
appreciated as I
grow older and
life gets harder
it will always
be a beacon of
lonely strength.

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3 thoughts on “A part of my me-ness”

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