A poem written for my parents' 50th wedding anniversary, almost 4 years ago (around the time of Frankie and the No-Go Road -- you see connections in the art.) Scroll down for the reading.
Two trees, joined at the base,
different from the other,
but saps mix.
Fifty years of roots, gnarls, heights.
Spreading branches behold blue sky,
When it rains, they drink
When it's dry, they thirst
When it blows, they hold on.
My dad really liked a couple trees, (he called them Sister Trees,) in a lovely grove back behind the woodshed. They were different types, but joined at the base. They were strong and beautiful, a cedar and a fir tree, as I recall.
April 17 Addition:
This is a photo of the healed-over tree, sustained by surrounding trees, as described in Bill Apgood's comment below. Thanks Bill!