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.