Even the trees here whisper,
they point their twig like fingers at the people below and cackle in the wind.
They reach out their crooked branches,
we grab on to this extended gesture.
but branches break and we come crashing down
hitting backs hard on the ground.
I would like to rest in a hammock, hang it from a tree in the yard but the branches shake and I shy away.
We would like to put up a swing for sister,
the trees know
they scratch the windows in the dark night and listen in to our private chatter
They grow up the walls of our house and spread our words to fellow flora
I sit sipping coffee and watch the trees toss gossip in the wind
I watch trees knock down a stranger because they do not fit the town’s mold
We run about under these trees
and try to find shelter where we can just be
but they take our words
and we become silent in our motion
hush and chatter
branches twigs and limbs in the wind
pray for the leaves to come,
fresh and green,
muffling the ears of These Trees