Destiny Calls

I should have rushed outside

in that bullying storm

with the ludicrous name,

to embrace your ravaged girth,

it wasn’t a fair fight

and I worried for you,

later we spoke, quietly,

I would turn out to be

your assassin,

full thirty years and more

in splendid summers

bleak winters,

boughs bearing grandchildren

perched like chattering gibbons

hidden in your foliage,

you breathed on me, shaded me, cleaned me

shared my space, hid my tears

rugged sanctuary, beacon,

it is time

I become frail, as do you

both know our destiny

*

© Graham Sherwood 02/2021