Blossom Tree Poem by alan robertson

If you could see as I did see
White blossoms on an ancient tree
And sense the fragrance on the breeze
Slight trace.

Would you wonder how this plant
Alone and grown without some hand
To nurture its advance could bear
Such fruit.

How long will this exhausted frame
Continue to adorn its crown
And offer such commanding place
Among us.

Too soon I fear that this will be
Farewell to these sweet blows
And in the ground our aged tree
Will strew.