The ash stands by the gate and guards the yard.
And sometimes Frank climbs way up
where he hears
the garden's conversation.
Down the years
he's shared some tales!
But now it's getting hard
to know what to believe.
Be on your guard Frank;
plants and trees have learned your inward fears -
till you listen,
speak with sneers
of just what kind of man you really are.
So listen! ... "You are old enough to know:
The futile years, the pity and contempt
your mother's carried -- let her put behind."
A stranger speaking to your son below.
Enlightened with the adult sentiment,
to see you now. And call his old love blind.