Count the time coded rings

on these twin columns of bark

rooted in my brain garden.

Solid on soil, they do not sway,

though whip lashed branches

dance in the century winds.

See these tree towers,

clear through fog,

See their top branches joined,

a bower

for glossy green and tender shoots,

long since implanted,

their own rings growing.

Down below,

encased in warm earth,

roots bound as one.

Copyright © Anne Langford