Stories and Poems

MY BIRCH TREE

I remember growing up with you
You who were only a tiny stick in the ground
Have blossomed into a beautiful tree
A tall slender trunk
Adorned with white bark
Sprinkled with black designs

At Easter your branches are decorated with catkins
They are swaying in the air like ballet dancers
Through the heart shaped soft green leafs
Whispers the breeze
Shadows are dancing tiredless
Through the reflecting sunlight

I sit beneath you and we remember bygone days