Paraphrasing E.M. Forster

It was a comrade.

Bending over the house,
strength and adventure
in its roots

But in its utmost fingers,

And the girth
that a dozen men
could not have spanned

Became in the end evanescent
till pale bud clusters seemed to float
in the air

It was a comrade

House and tree transcended any similes of sex
she thought of them now
and was to think of them
On many a day and windy night

But to compare either
to man
to woman

Always dwarfed the vision

Yet they kept within the limits
Of the human

their message
not of eternity
but of hope
on this side of the grave