You Can't Change the Past Because It's Already Happened

This plank is now a plank for good, no, not

A tree. This wormhole is a parasite
Egressing, not a door through sap and time.
I never kissed her. I can’t climb a tree
Parquet out at 13 Hibiscus Drive,
Hidden Valley RanchoLand, 2nd Stage.
I never jumped her bones. This little chip,
Ready to cast a splinter, will not burst
Into untidy nests this spring. Its roots
Have been recalled. No reset for her touch
Or faith in promises. The bark cannot
Be squeezed from sarsaparilla. In my time
A tree fell, and I heard it. I was there.