From Tiny Acorns
Here I am
old and worn.
Children climbing on my arms
higher and higher, ever upwards.
Please leave me alone.
They race
they trip over my feet.
Please leave me alone.
A warm trickle runs down my leg
I can't brush away the visitor.
Please leave me alone.
Seasons run from one to another
time catches the faces. The faces change.
Please leave me alone.
Here I am
still standing.
Still shading you from the sunlight,
and catching the droplets as they fall.
Please leave me alone.