Linda Pastan

(1932 - / New York / United States)

Something About The Trees


I remember what my father told me:
There is an age when you are most yourself.
He was just past fifty then,
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?

There is an age when you are most yourself.
I know more than I did once.
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
Only a single leaf had turned so far.

I know more than I did once.
I used to think he'd always be the surgeon.
Only a single leaf had turned so far,
Even his body kept its secrets.

I used to think he'd always be the surgeon,
My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife.
Even his body kept its secrets.
I thought they both would live forever.

My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife,
I can still see her face at thirty.
I thought they both would live forever.
I thought I'd always be their child.

I can still see her face at thirty.
When will I be most myself?
I thought I'd always be their child.
In my sleep it's never winter.

When will I be most myself?
I remember what my father told me.
In my sleep it's never winter.
He was just past fifty then.


Submitted by Jt

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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  • Jim Foulk (4/10/2007 1:25:00 PM)

    a beautiful piece, i love trees so many memoires of them and what they brought. this was touching poem. (Report) Reply

  • Philippa Lane (2/3/2006 12:27:00 AM)

    A beautiful poem - I am enjoying your poetry. Linda. Scarborough Gypsy wrote to me enthusiastic about your writing, so I am happy to have discovered you. (Report) Reply

  • Raynette Eitel (2/2/2006 10:00:00 PM)

    This is a perfect pantoum, Linda...and the repitition of lines is done in exactly the right way so it does not seem contrived. I've written a few of these and I know they take skill. Good work.

    Raynette (Report) Reply

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