I looked upon a tree

Dripping with sunlight

But rooted in sadness. 

Squirrels skittered around its weary branches 

oblivious to their pitiful playground whose

dried leaves waved their final farewells 

in the fall breeze and twinkled in the sun’s light

and I felt sad for them for they were beautiful and 

seemed to address the day as starry night.

And fright settled over me for I realized:

As the leaves fall so must we all.

And all the while, with fangs of blinding light,

the fixed sun shimmered on that 

small tree 

as its veins bled sap snaking 

its path down that gnarled trunk,

which pulled and twisted between 

heaven and earth.

And as my sympathy took root in that tree,

I realized my veins bleed sap too.