A rooted life

I have stayed
many years 
branches on branches
living through many tears
the wind walks past
like an old friend
passing along
softly before the end
I was home 
to a lost family
of canaries and sparrows
of squirrels and bees
They laughed with me
cried their pain
flew far wide
before coming home again
All the chirpy evenings
the secret joys
of secret meetings
they passed me by
At length there came a time
my strength wore down
a fearless victim
of a woodcutter’s cold frown
He struck long and hard
crying tears of rage
this was my final stand
my life’s last stage
even as I fall
I fall with a smile
for I’d live on as warmth
of a winter night’s pyre

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