In the dog days of summer, this tree watched two brothers;
Little boys running, wrestling and laying down in the cool shade.
They gazed at the shadow of the leaves on their tanned skin.
In the dog days of summer, this tree watched two brothers;
Teenage boys sneaking, scheming and sharing a stolen cigarette.
Their backs up against the trunk, dreaming in the moonlight.
In the dog days of summer, this tree watched two brothers;
Young men building, learning, and meeting only at vacation times.
Shaking hands under the tree before they went back to their lives.
In the dog days of summer, this tree watched two brothers;
Men in their prime, reaching, searching and talking of money.
Words too loud to hear the breeze float through the leaves above their heads.
In the dog days of summer, this tree watched two brothers;
Come to the full circle of middle age, having won and lost.
Hands with age spots patted the rough strong bark.
Wrinkled eyes looked up at the green leaves blazing gold in the sunshine.
“This tree has seen a lot of life.”
“Yes it has, yes it has.”
“It’s a good tree.”
“Yes it is, yes it is.”
—G. Elizabeth Law
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