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Elegy for Ginkgos

by Bruce W Niedt


Each October, behind the public library,
I would find two ginkgos, side by side,
majestic as a mister and missus,
dressed out in fall couture,

brilliant yellow-gold, each leaf uniform,
exactly the same shade,
trumpeting Fall, keeping the sun
even on cloudy days.

They had probably changed this way
for generations, archetypal trees,
Seventh Wonders of Autumn,
like their ancestors had for millions of years.

In March they are gone,
razed, with bitter irony,
for a new wing of the library –
cut down like worthless obstacles

for a building full of books.
Nothing remains but clawed-up ground.
I realize, as I commit ink to paper,
that we trade trees for words every day.

But this was different.
These were my friends.

03/07/2003

Posted on 03/07/2003
Copyright © 2024 Bruce W Niedt

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Mara Meade on 03/07/03 at 10:14 PM

Gingko trees are absolutely beautiful... and yes, what irony that they were razed for a library.

Posted by JD Clay on 03/08/03 at 10:33 PM

A precious and poignant verse, Bruce. I have the feeling these trees will remain friends long into the next branch. Peace...

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/10/03 at 05:30 PM

I'm not familiar with this type of tree, but love your description and moving expression of loss. Well done Mr. B!

Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 03/10/03 at 08:40 PM

Very well said! Friends indeed! Ginkgo trees are the oldest continuing specie of tree that exists I believe. How very sad they couldn't save them.

Posted by Kara Hayostek on 04/02/03 at 12:21 AM

I love ginko trees, this is really sad :-(

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