Old friend now there is no one alive
who remembers when you were young
it was high summer when I first saw you
in the blaze of day most of my life ago
with the dry grass whispering in your shade
and already you had lived through wars
and echoes of wars around your silence
through days of parting and seasons of absence
with the house emptying as the years went their way
until it was home to bats and swallows
and still when spring climbed toward summer
you opened once more the curled sleeping fingers
of newborn leaves as though nothing had happened
you and the seasons spoke the same language
and all these years I have looked through your limbs
to the river below and the roofs and the night
and you were the way I saw the world
"Elegy for a Walnut Tree" by W. S. Merwin, from The Moon Before Morning (Copper Canyon Press, 2014). Text as published in The Guardian (05/24/14).Art credit: Untitled image of a walnut tree by unknown photographer.
One of my favorites by this amazing poet.
ReplyDeleteWalking in a park or anywhere trees have lived long and grown tall, I've often paused to look up and wonder who else may have passed by; what momentous scenes may have taken place beneath these branches; and whether anyone else has paused here and felt awash in peace as have I.
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