The Trees

Visual by Savanna Chada

The tall, standing trees,

like friends I’ve once known.

The Oak is a drinker,

the Pine feels alone.

Maple is sweet, but she burns if you leave her,

Alder resents that maple is sweeter.

And etched into Birch are the names of his lovers.

He shines much brighter but has more scars than the others.

And the Elm is like me, all-knowing and wise,

but I’m stuck with the wind, the birds and their cries.

Our roots are more lifeless beneath the barks lies,

because a tree is still standing, even after it dies.