The Branches in the Treetops

THE BRANCHES IN THE TREETOPS
March 19, 2005


The branches in the
treetops touch the sky
while, down below,
the boughs sway above
a pair of energetic
jeans and an old faded
T-shirt as summer brings
the children to their
favorite tire swing.

These branches hold
the invisible tell-tale marks
of rubber tread above which
is shoe-laced, and,
higher up, giggled and
bubblegum-popped. Against
the trunk of this irresistible
tree are the intangible hand
prints of youth which are
doubling in size by the year.

Birds sing in these limbs
when the children are not
around and they squawk and
carry on, jumping, dipping,
soaring, and squabbling among
the million drooping leaves.
Dogs play at the foot of this tree
and run around the trunk
like bees around a flower.

The wind sweeps the
grass below and dusts its
leaves and tosses them
around so the sun and the
shadows can look at them
respectively. The leaves will
fall, but more will grow and
the children will bring children

of their own to swing with
their own dogs at their
sides that will run and play
and leave, like the others
before them, deserting limbs
for the birds while
the branches in the
treetops touch the sky.