Friday, December 27, 2024

The Sapling

When I was a sapling,
I knew nothing of the ways
of heaven and earth. 

I thought the sun 

would rise and set forever.

 

Time was a river with no beginning

and no end and would water my roots

until the very stars grew dim.

 

Now that I am a tree,

wide in the trunk,

the days are short,

the seasons compressed.

 

My leaves grow and fall,

grow and fall,

and my shadow

is always

chasing me down.

 

Children hang

from my branches

like ripe fruit

and then are gone,

 

rushing to find

some occupation in the dusk

that moments before

had been dawn.

 

And I think to myself,

winds rushing

through my mind

like a sieve,

 

wasn’t it only yesterday

that I was a sapling?


~William Hammett



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