In spring it sprouts its tender, green shoots

With a gardener’s soft, whispering touch

In summer it flourishes:

Strong, brown branches clothed in a silk green garment

It takes a few years of careful tending to mature

I remember playing hide-and-seek; climbing

up thin branches, or crouching in the undergrowth.

I think I was too young to understand back then: I thought of time

as a steadily growing tree that I hadn’t yet started climbing.

Once, you saw my head peeking out from the apple tree.

I'd like a tree to mark the spot Where I am laid to rest For that would be the epitaph, That I would like the best.

You said that soon, I’d always be looking down at you like that; that time passed too quickly. I think I grew younger

You told me once that growing up was like walking up a downwards escalator.

My heart is glad, my heart is high with sudden ecstasy!

Grow thou and flourish well, Ever the story tell of this glad day;

I have given back, before I die, Some thanks for my lovely apple tree