tickling the skyline since day 1
the wind cannot seem to sweep its symmetry off her feet,
and take her to a crowded cafe, maybe, or an empty city.
and the wind knows this.

visitors and neighbors disagree
on whether it grows. even
the ants crawling through the ground cant decide.
there is a story in the stillness, the unchanging shadows.

no leaves decorate the ground, but there is a flower.
it lacks one petal. i ask if you would replace
this petal, or rip off the others instead.
but you say to leave everything as it is, different.

you’d think this tree is like a metaphor for growing up
but its just the the sort of thing we’d sit under
if you were the type of person that sat under trees
and tried to count the leaves, between heartbeats,
rooted to the spot.