THE WISHING TREE
I
thought of her as the wishing tree that died
And saw
it lifted, root and branch, to heaven,
Trailing
a shower of all that had been driven
Need by
need by need into its hale
Sap-wood
and bark: coin and pin and nail
Came
streaming from it like a comet-tail
New-minted
and dissolved. I had a visión
Of an
airy branch-head rising through damp cloud,
Of turned-up
faces where the tree han stood.
Seamus
Heaney.
