How long have I known these trees,
with colors and without,
through how many summers and winters?
You belong in a forest, or the broad open field
with plenty of room to soak up the sun.
Flowers of color, a kingdom of color
repeated effortlessly, though not ours to keep.
I often hold the vision, sleeping and awake,
even in sleep loving them.
The roamer who in youth looked up and swung
from boughs, imagining I’m a plane or helicopter,
with the leaves rustling back and forth
like breath shimmering around the edges.
I was another leaf, exchanging ions.
How it feels when they greet you going out the door.
Their beauty is a comfort that soothes,
their shadow an easy path carries me back
to the old forest.
I have known these trees a very long time,
and I’m glad they are here.
Garden City Park