Oak-like stance

glory in the light

with limbs that reach
beyond their shadows cast

to touch a place in time
where children played like us

a memory tree
where love once carved its proof
for all to know
is lost
with other needs and space
and time for growth

and moss has softened all
to tourist rest
an eyeful tower golden set against the sky
where all will dream
and time will fly

Stephen Stavast