Silver Birch

The silver birch has its head in the clouds.
The upper branches wave in the wind
as if they are fit to break, but instead 
they bend.  The birds are along for the ride.
So many times, I have thought it would snap
but it has come through storm after storm
and only grown taller year by year.
Small, heart shaped leaves depend from twigs
that grow out of the branches and cascade
like a waterfall, like mermaid’s hair;
obscuring the structure and the papery
silver bark that covers the stout trunk.
Long may this tree you alone planted
grow and thrive and give me pleasure.

Sally Warrell