A tree solemnly left behind another year
Amidst the lines the plough has drawn on the hill side
A tree that seems to sail up the time tide
Never too far from me, never too near
I look upon the lonely tree and fill with fear
That I should find one day I must preside
Over a barren field on a hill side
Bereft and left by those I now hold dear
Shaking my head, I take a firm step
and let the ground beneath me set me free
and take me back to now, and to my loved ones
Seasons will come, farmers will sow and harvest
I will again walk by this solemn tree
But never more will I find it so poignant.
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