suppose i were a tree
fat in the trunk, thin in the branches
no leaves, or leaving or sunlight
or rain.

suppose I were the dead husk of a tree
no one remembered, except
as the best fire they ever burned
in the warm red brick fireplace
their grandfather built when he was a young man
and I still a sapling.

beloved, it is too much to ask me
what I am, who I might be, where I might grow
most tall and healthy
How I might reach for the sun
one more day

suppose, I were a tree
still young, still strong,
still green and lush and honest about shadows

suppose, we were both trees
together in the cool bright wood
alive and mad with the still love
of every sunny day
and every glorious shower

Beloved, it is not enough to ask
what if
let us be
until we
are the ashes
and the dust
and endless dream
of every perfect summer
since we met.