Whispered The Rowan To The Oak

The woods of our youth are failing,
                    even the mightiest rot,
Beetle and high wind take them
                    and soon they will be forgot,
Yet sadder than even the fading
                    of suns too eager to set
Is that you should fail to remember
                   what I can never forget.

The saplings of strangers surround us
                   to feather the winter sky,
Yet though you survive beside me,
                   you see with an empty eye,
Far better we fall and nourish
                   the land in a last duet
Than that you should fail to remember
                  what I can never forget.