When the Bough Breaks

When the Bough Breaks

When last
in old age
the tree
topples down,

signficant
loss
to the souls
above ground,

memories
leap
at the laughter
and sound

of play
under way
when youth
was around.

Gone now
the days
with those children
so free,

running
so wild
and climbing
that tree

whose branches
so strong
and height
carried me

up, up
to the stars
of those nights
that would be.

For fire woods
spark
and ashes
galore

soon will have
dancing
in moonlight
some more,

filling
new hearts
and new minds
at the door,

and beginning
to again
some sapling
adore.