To The Tree Outside My Window At The Old Rooming House - Poem by Max Reif
When I was an orphan
you took me in,
your branches were
my only green.
was a tenant in them, too,
my only other friend.
Back here in the old
neighborhood a couple days,
I thought I'd visit,
but you're gone too
and left no forwarding address.
Today I live in the sky
with a human
playmate I've found.
The moon stops by our place sometimes,
beams at us through the window
as we clatter our pots and pans.
I'll tell our old companion I was here,
and even if on her far-flung
travels she finds no trace of you,
your green still soothes me
and I can hear your leaf-lattice
murmuring in my heart.
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
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