my dad is a tree

My Dad is a Tree

My dad is a tree
you see
he donated his body
when after death it dropped
for the ultimate composting moment.

And now he stretches up
Pain Free
to take just what he needs
and give back more.

My dad is a tree
you see
through his leaves
photosynthesis begins
he drinks the light

his trunk dappled with white oval bark,
his crown stupendous
reaching branches
connecting tiny twigs.
And his Lincolnshire roots
anchoring ever deeper
enriching the soil.

10 years on
He is twenty rings wide
and I see his stoic nature there
in his
invisible slow growth.

My dad is a tree
you see
death doesn't mean the end
it’s just the beginning
harder memories compost into love
kinder memories shimmer in my heart.

Love becomes Love.
Life becomes Life.

My dad is a tree
you see
he’s an oak tree. 

— E.S.

i wrote this poem as we approached the tenth anniversary of my dad’s death. this picture is him: an oak tree growing in a green burial ground in lincolnshire.