Seedling

A memory misplaced,
a time easily forgotten,
when childhood seemed never-ending,
and adulthood far on the horizon.

I was six, wearing anklets made of pink hearts,
my Grandpa, a mentor and survivor of history,
took me out to look at trees.

We tied a yellow ribbon around a seedling,
saying "we will watch you grow."
We did.

Until I grew older and took my anklets off,
until I grew older and started driving cars
until I grew older and forgot about the Fir.

-Which was also growing-

Perhaps it shed the ribbon,
perhaps it grew too high to recall where it was rooted.
Now, it is in a forest of tall trees among its peers.

Still special and remembered.

How could I have so easily forgotten?