Posted by in America

An old cottonwood stands jauntily outside my window
I sometimes watch it as I lie in bed
when the cool smell of rain is on the air
I can hear the wind in the distance
but the tree stays quiet
while I speak to it
Later, I will watch the rain drip from the leaves
and listen for its response

This morning I went down to it
its trunk still wet from the rain
I walked all around it
As I touched the bark
rough on my pliable hands
I looked up
it seemed to surround and protect me

I am alone today
I’ll be alone tomorrow
but my loneliness has a place now
a purpose which I share each night
with the jaunty old cottonwood tree
as I sleep