a talk with the trees

trees II: a poem. As of late, I make my way to class alone, lost in whatever song's in my ears laid over my fast-firing thoughts. On October 26th, I stared up at the trees as I passed Martin, Kinard, Daniel. I noticed they didn't move. I thought it odd; I know trees stay planted, roots in the earth, but it's like I realized it for the first time. So I followed my mind's unlikely trail, asking the trees questions in my head. 

“today’s a day I wish the trees could talk
silent and tall, my questions unanswered.

no running, speaking, feeling.
do you wish for a different purpose?

”stay, grow, wait. trust.” he says.
do you long to wander?

your leaves for my breath.
do you wish he loved you that way?

green, bright, barren, back again.
do you ever tire of the tired cycle?

what’s on your mind?
do you have one?

i love you.
i wonder if he lets you love.

——————

warm, lively, bright.
i am none of the three.

why?
you didn’t make me to be.
why?
i don’t know.

it tastes bitter, who i’m not.
who am i?,
i ask the trees.

who i really want is you,
to answer my childlike why’s.

you let them echo.
you care too much.
i don’t know how i know but i do.

——————

it takes time.
we’re alike, you see.
for you trees and me,
it takes time.
”

WWLT:
Change - Rivvrs
Seasons - Hollow Wood

L: 10/23/16, a Sunday in Cashiers. Katie and I hiked Whiteside Mtn and stared at the fiery colors on peak weekend.

C: 1/23/16, winter dusk in Daniel Square. I was probably walking back from my car when I snapped this. The trees are so tall. I remembered there's blue sky between branches.

R: 3/4/16, Friday afternoon in the Botanical Gardens. Syd, Meg and I went to shoot film on a *dreamy secret path*. The pines accentuate our human smallness, in a good way.