A friendly face.

A ceramic face hangs from cherry tree’s bark;

He smiles and winks, his gaze matching mine;

Both wind and rain have eroded his face;

Coarse streaks of white mark the passage of time.

His friends are perched in their usual spots;

Grasshopper on beard, beetle on cheek;

His fired-clay visage as wise as before;

Calmly content there, week after week.

Month after month and year after year;

Confined to his tree, he's watched over home;

Each time I come back from travels afar;

I share with him things he might not have known.

From sylvan crown to herbaceous beard;

He’s much the same, while older I grow;

I wonder if he will continue to smile;

When I last return, and then must go.