Something About The Trees

I remember what my father told me:
There is an age when you are most yourself.
He was just past fifty then,
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?

There is an age when you are most yourself.
I know more than I did once.
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
Only a single leaf had turned so far.

I know more than I did once.
I used to think he'd always be the surgeon.
Only a single leaf had turned so far,
Even his body kept its secrets.

I used to think he'd always be the surgeon,
My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife.
Even his body kept its secrets.
I thought they both would live forever.

My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife,
I can still see her face at thirty.
I thought they both would live forever.
I thought I'd always be their child.

I can still see her face at thirty.
When will I be most myself?
I thought I'd always be their child.
In my sleep it's never winter.

When will I be most myself?
I remember what my father told me.
In my sleep it's never winter.
He was just past fifty then.


Submitted by Jt

by Linda Pastan

Comments (7)

Only a single leaf had turned so far... Trees in Illinois and Wisconsin seem to turn quickly after you notice the one that had turned the other day. - Age approaches, sometimes, like the leaf that turned. One day your 65 or 70 or 75, and what you seem to be able to do can turn away that quickly.
a beautiful piece, i love trees so many memoires of them and what they brought. this was touching poem.
I think that I shall never see, a poem lovely as a tree...
A beautiful poem - I am enjoying your poetry. Linda. Scarborough Gypsy wrote to me enthusiastic about your writing, so I am happy to have discovered you.
Beautifully conceived and beatifully written
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