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Climbing A Tree I Planted 20 Years Ago

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Aching, leaden arms, breath hissing,
 Climbing up a willow tree,
Safety cinch and ladder missing—
 Up into the canopy.

Lacerated—scratched and panting,
 Never seemed this hard before,
Insufficient wind for ranting—
 Face it chum—you’re sixty-four.

Here’s the prize, a leaf-framed dappling
 View a Druid never crowned—
You were scarce a whip-thin sapling
 When I stuck you in the ground!