In my backyard

I have a tree

It watches the seasons

Like you watch tv

The same four episodes

Over and over

As winter frost parts

For the new spring clover

Summer heat calms

For the windy fall

Year after year

It watches them all

Glued to the ground

Stuck in one place

It cannot even

Turn its own face

But maybe the tree

Looks at landscape changing

A forest of friends

Turns to vast fields ranging

The vacant earth

Is now dotted with barns

Silos stretch up from

A busy cattle farm

As the decades press on

It watches a mother

Nurture her children,

A sister and brother

The kids grow up

As does every child

The tree watches grandchildren

Running wild

The farm slowly turns

To a suburban street

There are lots of new people

And pets to meet

And now the tree looks on

From my backyard

I guess getting bored

Would be really hard

Even though the seasons

Remain as just four

Each year my tree

Has new things to adore