seeking arborist
i want to be seen
not just when the sun
refracts through my leaves
i want to be known
in high noon
when my shadow reaches you
and in the whitest winter
when i am only wood
not just in summer breeze—
though into it i lean—
but by my aches and my creaks
no one hears but me
i want you
to trace your fingers
along my roots
defend the buckled sidewalk
where i insist on existing
stand between me
and couples with knives
you may leave a mark
upon my bark
but only if you water me
and if you don’t
i will remain
pulling strength from rain.
ot
txto