A Birch with Milky Bark

Near middle part of corner lot
Exists a birch with milky bark,
Not difficult from street to spot
In cheerful green or auric spark.
 

Large tree does little to survive

Except endure uncertain years
As breezy air stirs leaves alive
And dewy rain studs silver tears.
 

About lies emerald well­kept lawn

Where hydro station ran, we're told,
Bulldozed until last brick was gone.
Yet, still unhurt, set roots keep hold.
 

Beneath resides true seat of power

As soil and sap surge as transmitter
To fuel so modest milk­white tower.
Full force, Earth generates begetter!

If you approach sharp vision learns

Rough trunk is really two combined,
Where slimmest into stoutest turns­
Wood female­male dryads entwined.

Pair mingle nervous twiggy branches,

Limbs tallest solid, shortest graceful,
And midway join wind­gusty dances.
Each complements its partner, faithful.
 

While passes seasons four resplendent,

Groans humid clap and human grumble,
Here still firm stand stays co­dependent,
Endears from stretched position humble.

Ay, winter twain are unmoved slightest

How many decades none dare say,
Long night the darkest, day the lightest,
As transient things go by the way.

Now young boy wanders to wed trees,

Hugs bark to climb that double bole
But then, from trying, insight sees
Arms can't embrace the too­wide whole.

Nought else lad views on level ground

Save birches in vicinity,
Soon tries to wrap small mind around
Grown sense of vast infinity.

 ­Martin Hicks