These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

Dad's Elm

Many strong and wispy limbs
create the canopy.
Shimmering leaves of backlit glow
in golden hues so free.

Years of grief have come and gone,
since the elm was given its home.
Memories of my long-missed Dad
draws me here from each daily roam.

The gentle flow of leaves in the wind
brings peaceful steady rest.
More raucous groans through gales that blow
show strength for ev'ry test.

The elm's a monument to Dad,
not brass, but verdant green.
With hope, he thrives, makes my heart glad,
though shrouded and not seen.

The veins, that line each gentle leaf
remind me I'm his blood.
The bark, that flakes and peels apart
reveals a hope so good.

The sapling of each tree, that grows
can live for many years
to fill quite full the yard of life,
and weather many fears.

When in the sod the namesake lies,
the testimony lives
to show our loved ones life goes on
with Hope, it daily gives.

This elm's a picture to the world.
My Dad's influence spread
throughout my life to hoary hairs.
He lives, though his shell is dead.

by Jay O'Toole
on April 26th, 2020