My favorite tree is like an overgrown kid.
It’s small, but has craters all over.
It has boughs that spread not that far, leaves- rough and far from green.
When the full moon is around, it looks like a ghost.
It’s shadow stretches beyond the reach of its roots.
The roots- I find them the best.
Hidden in the earth’s breast, roots speak of my tree’s hidden intentions
Plus there is the sense of mystery that in it’s last life,
My tree was a man, a dumb man, who just stood still
There is peace in the shade of that tree…
There is peace even if you just ogle at the tree…
The tree, believe me when I say
Talks to me
The tree has more to it, than being just a tree…