Tree

Tree, whose bony fingers stretched above gloved branches, you danced in the sunlight, elegantly bowing for scampering squirrels and gifts of birdhouse rings. Tree, whose springtime blossoms scattered petals for make-believe weddings, you caught up children and hugged them tightly in games of hide and seek. Tree, I run my fingers along your weeping scars where Earth’s fury tore your hand from mine. Splintered memories, I have less air to breath.