Dieback

I cannot see an ash tree

Without searching its fingertips

For the first stains.

Life slips away by inches

Leaf to twig to limb, then

Rotting to heart and root.

For I remember the chestnuts

Before canker spread and seared

Them to an autumn in June.

And I dread the coming of

Winter that devours all.

And I remember the elms

Striding, towering, crowning,

Gone.