Sonnet LV

Oh Tree, how solemn and how still and staid,
A gentle giant, towering above.
For centuries you’ve stayed there solemnly,
So steadfast, standing in the wind and rain.

While proud birds make their nests, defacing you,
While showy squirrels race amongst your leaves,
You bend in mute agreement, concordant
And modestly, you dress in moderate hues.

Oh Tree, unwaveringly humble, still!
While birds will flit away and find new homes,
While squirrels bore themselves with petty plans –
You stay there, never proud and modest still.

While triviality and fancies flee,
Firm modesty endures like humble trees.