A Friend's Demise

I recall when my new husband, first
Showed me the tree with pride;
As a small part of the heritage
He'd share with his new bride.
He said his grandpa planted it,
Marking where the road would go
Between his land and the neighbor's
A full century ago.
This sentinel has stood there
Through the ensuing years,
While the family has battled on
In happy times and tears.
Forty years since I first saw it
On the corner of the place,
And it became just as familiar
As my own, now well lined face.
My husband, his dad and grandpa
Have departed, one by one.
I thought the fir would still be standing
When my own race had been run.
The bitter storms of winter
Have combined to take their toll;
Stripped the tree of branch and needles,
Wore it down to naked pole.
Then one final blast of weather,
As the wind blew sixty miles,
Pulled the proud tree from its moorings
Leaving it in splintered piles.
This morning, the bald eagle
Who has used it for a perch,
Paused for one bewildered moment
Before continuing her search
For another place to settle
As she looked for easy prey
Among the flocks of wild ducks
That are feeding here today.
She found a mighty cedar
In the grove they'd planted for
A windbreak for the house and barn
Seventy years ago or more.
She forgot about the fir tree
When she found a spot she'd like;
Espied a morsel for her dinner
And descended for a strike.

Our childen all have moved on
To where weather's not so grim
And they tell me I should join them;
Leave this place I shared with him.
I cannot bear to abandon
All the dreams we two had shared,
And the pastures and the woodlands
For which so many good men cared.
I will ask my hired helper
On this old neglected farm
To cut the fir tree into fire logs
For a fire to keep me warm.

By: Joyce Johnson 1/8/07