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