Evergreen

I hurried past you every morning
on my way to class.
Always, you stood tall and calm,
waving as I’d pass.

After school, when running home,
I’d spot your shadow swaying,
shading half the sidewalk where
the hopscotchers were playing.

On rainy days, I’d come in close
and seek a place to hide.
You’d act as my umbrella with
your giant arms spread wide.

I wish I’d paid attention then
and seen your branches falling.
I should have sensed the danger when
the noisy trucks came calling.

Perhaps I could have rescued you
if I had thought to try.
At least I could have whispered, ‘Thanks,’
‘I’m sorry,’ and, ‘Goodbye.’

I take my time now, walking past
the spot where you should be.
Though others might forget, I wave.
You’re Evergreen to me.