by Audra Eddy
Tell me, dear Tree,
dear Elm Tree, specifically,
tell me, please,
how to be
in this world
so overrun with humanity.
With all your years
in this very spot,
this tiny easement plot,
what have you learned
that you can share
with us tonight
who’ve gathered here?
You’ve no place to run
from dog urine,
car fumes,
from sweltering dearth
or fickle freezes.
Teach me to open wide
– like you! –
amidst confinement
and circumstance.
How did you survive
the Deadly Disease
that took all – ALL! –
your kin that lined
both sides of the street
of my childhood home?
Your roots have stories,
your bark holds secrets,
your leaves whisper sweet nothings
as they exhale in the fall.
I finger your wrinkles,
I press my chest to your heartwood,
my ear wants to hear:
Tell me, dear Tree, tell me,
how best to be.
Survivor Elm on Crest Ave, A2. Photo credit: C. Finch
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Audra Eddy is a poet living in Ann Arbor. This poem was written for a winter poetry gathering at the foot of a beloved Champion Tree of Ann Arbor American Elm in December 2025.
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This is an original poem, brought to you by Poet Tree Town, a Washtenaw-based poetry-in-public initiative and celebration of local poets. Find out more about Poet Tree Town on Instagram and Facebook, or say hello at [email protected].
