It’ll take time to grow again,

To sprout a newer me from grafted self.

I spliced my old identity and bound it,

Let it draw sap from tired blood,

leak resin, drip through wrinkled bark.

It will take time to forest from a single tree,

From a clone create another generation.

Nature never learned to count.  Unhurried,

It will observe its own season’d clock.

I shall never see that new harvest,

Taste the fruit of that second tillage.

[23 May 2016]