Opening your arms
You let your branches touch the ground
So we could see the sky
You made a place for us
defended it when necessary
continued to support us
when we planted our roots
You gave us permission
to BE – musicians, callers, composers
when all our parents wanted was
for us to get a job, dammit!
How many tunes? Who knows?
Too many friends to write one for each of them,
that’s for sure
At your 50th birthday party,
we played and danced in the driveway
A shiver went through me, a whisper . . .
“Pay attention. This is important.” I was 24. It was.
grafted onto your tough old rootstock
You tended us carefully while appearing not to
Old friend, mentor, and merry prankster
Grow forever young as your orchards bloom
© 2/4/14 Donna Hébert. All rights reserved. Photo © 1987 Donna Hébert.