THE TREE

There’s something mystical about the tree

finding me.  Back with her,

living in her treehouse,

it was hard to leave that tree when it was time.

Later in the little rented house the landlord cut down

the tree I lived with and angrily I left

to find my own tree, this great tree, that had been looking

all this time.  His spirit had suffered —

insects dug a hole in his trunk that he allowed

out of sadness.

It’s taken time to make friends.

I sit daily where he lives.

We watch time together.

Soon we will roam up and down the cellular

highway from earth to sky to earth.

7/26/20