Listen Here

See that tree over there? It was planted when

I was three. And that house was on this land

50-years before I arrived. This town was half

This size in the 1940s. My, how things have

Changed in my lifetime. The brown stain on

The pages of this book happened one morning

About a year ago when I spilled my coffee.

The shirt I’m wearing, when I bought it new,

It was a beautiful brilliant blue. Given its age

And all the washings it’s been through...well,

We all know about fading. I must admit, I too

Have been though the ringer a time or two

Over the years I’ve been here. Like this old

Shirt, people become frayed and faded over

Time. And when that tree falls and eventually

Rots or is hauled away, only those from around

Here who used it as a landmark reminder in

Their lives will miss it in their remembering.

And should it remain, I doubt anyone who

Sees the coffee stain on this book will know

Or care how it got there...except you. And

That is only because I told you so. You may

Not have seen this shirt when it was a brilliant

Blue, but I guarantee you’ll remember I told

You so when I was old. You may also recall

This poem. I’ve signed and dated it at the

Bottom just to make sure. Partly, my job here

Was to speak for the tree. For like the book

And the shirt, they have no voice of their own.

Chris Hanch 6-1-17