tree story #9: In a Gray Field
How could an oak tree
be lonely?
My roots dig deep into soul,
reach out in all directions.
The tips of my branches
dance with wind.
Who needs neighbors?
Who needs a barbed-wire fence?
A dirt road passes,
or it stays.
Do I miss my summer leaves?
This almost-evening,
December flings its briefest
scarves of light.
Taylor Graham
