The Old Tree

An image steeped entirely in blue.
A rare color.
At the center, a single tree
rises with a strong trunk.
The tree,
with one hand, sends off the one who leaves,
and with the other, holds the one left behind.
Because the tree cannot leave,
it watches every parting.
Countless times it has sent people off,
countless times it has held them.
To see off what departs,
and to hold the grief that remains.
That is what this tree
has done all its life.
Its thick trunk
is the thickness of those years.