The Tree

There is a window in this room

And outside a chestnut tree alive and happy.

It is a century old but barely withering.

I met this tree when I was eight,

Years before they wanted to take it down.

They have conjured photographs from its bark,

The old, greasy pictures are not that old either.

There was a time I didn't know you

And you didn't know me.

The chestnut tree knew us all back then,

It has survived the test of time.

One day it will only stay alive in a photograph

Just like your smile and mine will stay

Stuck only in photos, separated by time.