My Old Friend
In a place
where poems rhyme
I found the tree
I used to climb
On the corner
of my school
she casts her shade
and keeps it cool
She hasn't changed
as much as I
Her leaves still seem
to touch the sky
Forty some odd
years have passed
since her strong limbs
had held me last
Nice to see you
my old friend
I'd love to climb you
once again
And dream of days
and things gone by
amid your branches
in the sky
© Mike Wise
10-3-21
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