as the girl sat beneath the old willow

her imagination wild, curious

she felt no pain, no sorrow

she'd had lived 8 years

as the girl sat beneath the paper birch

her imagination fruitful, baring spark

she felt no pain, no sorrow

she had lived 17 years

as the girl sat beneath the creaking elm

her imagination blossoming

she felt no pain, no sorrow

she had lived 24 years

as the woman sat beneath the budding juniper

her imagination dull, uneasy

she felt no pain, no sorrow

she neared 30 years, and she felt nothing