then Father then

we stayed close to your nerves

you had grown tall

your crown touched the sky

we played rabbit holes

with your roots and the excess

of old man's beard you gave away

willow branches that were relatives

it looked like overgrowth

brothers and sisters

the earth from beneath your feet

you were unraveling

unraveled to the bone

the sap kept flowing

perhaps it was your buds

where you always returned

later I started sawing you off

more and more branches

to adorn myself

above some shrubbery

now that I have seedlings of my own

reaching is too much for me

the sap swirls around my feet

my crown covers no further

than some acorns that are mine

later, much later, Father

I see the driftwood

that we carried together

I would love to braid you a coat

and crown you with ornamental wood

so that the days would wear out

in unison

as if we were made of mahogany

Stretched out, braided out, and tree again

Stretched out, braided out, and tree again