Birds fly together straight to the tree
standing high above the lowly one, me
sure of its beauty, its majesty,
and its indomitable will.
Sunk in the sand for many a year
it’s a tree to harvest adoring stares
and gather the wishes and needs
of each and every sightseer.
No wonder it grows tall, taller than me,
it’s full of the most delightful things
because I know of my wishes and needs
they are outstandingly grand.
I don’t worry that trees hold my needs
but I wonder sometimes how they will appear
after the decreed and inevitable
biodegradable process.
Who will know that they’re mine?
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