Arts + Scene » Poetry

Rings

By

comment

...Fifty-two, fifty-three, and fifty-four

Are the number of years this young redwood

Lived, my son. That's tragic, yes, but we should

Learn from nature how to live. Let's learn more.

Starting at its core, let's count fourteen rings.

That's when your mom was born. Let's count two more.

One and two. That's when I opened life's door.

And then nineteen more growth rings. There. That brings

Your mom and me together evermore.

Let's count. Mom and I needed seventeen

More to make the world right. All those rings,

All that love, everything that came before

Made you, my dear boy. You made the world new

Two years ago today. We'll stop counting

Now, because we've reached a new beginning:

This bright green sprout reopened the last two

Rings. Fifty-four isn't this tree's end. It's

Its new beginning. The fourth of May splits

Time the same way for your mom and me: You

Have shown us what life is. You are our life,

And for the rest of my days I will try

To show you how to live your rings that lie

Ahead as you've shown me how to live mine.

Happy Second Birthday, Beloved Bub

Add a comment