The Tree

How boldly I loved you,
privately.
How achingly, I longed for you,
silently.

So many years have slipped away,
and you have grown, so,
while I have stayed this way,
and shall remain it: ever old.

Ever old, I am  a tree
whose shade you take,
occasionally.

Once, I yearned,
I shook, I grieved
But now, I stand,
just stand,
unflinchingly.