tree begins sometime in 1975;
beside dogs and a wet street.
old year printed on worn t-shirt
that’s gone in the wash
thirty times over, spinning like time;
navy blue sky
bleached to morning. tree

carries on, branches reaching
over loose-tiled roof,
distant as a silhouette:

barren Christmas, leaves falling
on new bicycles; bark
strewn on the ground, the imprint
of a child’s shoe,
initials drawn in tipp-ex
then painted over again. and tree
remains.