The pin oak is finally turning red, red orange, burnt sienna
though the ginkgo is still quite green and that old pine tree
stands nearly bare when it should be green and full of needles.
Old age, vines and weather have finally defeated it
a tree my neighbor who lived to be a hundred planted
when she was young. When she was old her neighbor
to the west climbed it every December to hang
a lit wreath high up in its topmost branches.
Both now gone from here, one to the country
a young wife and two little boys, one after those
last bitter years to death and whatever comes next.
So everything changes even those things we
imagine don’t matter that much nevertheless
adding to the humble landscape of a human life
for as I look now back there I recall a whole
other time left behind as my life goes on and on.