Was a love of epic proportions.
It was shapely and bountiful,
filling me with pomegranates
when hungry, shielding me from
a blistering sun, and keeping me dry
when it rained.
It wrapped branches around me
with a love so powerful it banished
any trace of solitude.
All I had to provide was lots of hugs
morning, noon and night, and sing
merry tunes to keep it smiling.
When men with chainsaws appeared,
I would flip them in the air, making
good use of my Black Belt in Karate.
A lone whippoorwill perched high on
a top branch warned of forest fires.
The fires have now cremated my tree.
After nursing hit’s painful fatal wounds,
I dropped its ashes into Saint Mary’s Bay
as it had asked me to do. I can hardly wait
to follow its transmutations into eternity.