To a Tree

I have traced the pockmarks of your skin;

and felt the record of your life.

You let me see that every year

a part of you must die

so that you can reinvent yourself

for the next.


You enchant me

with the knowledge

you have gained by

growing wise, but

cannot or will not

tell me.


A.M. Walsh

A.M. Walsh started writing poetry in 2018. His work has been published in the literary magazines Chaleur, Royal Rose and Drunk Monkeys. He is presently working on a pamphlet.