3.

As I said, the work was hard—

not simply caring for the little trees

but caring for ourselves as well,

feeding ourselves, cleaning the public rooms—

But the trees were everything.

And how sad we were when one died,

and they do die, despite having been

removed from nature; all things die eventually.

I minded most with the ones that lost their leaves,

which would pile up on the moss and stones—

The trees were miniature, as I have said,

but there is no such thing as death in miniature.

Shadows passing over the snow,

steps approaching and going away.

The dead leaves lay on the stones;

there was no wind to lift them.