My backyard is a sea,
my tree an island,
my house the mainland.
I want to take a vacation,
on a nice day,
to the luxury island across the sea.
My tree is an extension of me,
welcoming my feet among its limbs.
The branches are a perch and I am a bird,
gazing out upon the city I can see.
The bark is sandpaper to my silk skin,
the leaves a blanket for my frigid mind.
The wind is a song in my empty ears,
the sensation of wood digging into skin
a reminder of consciousness.
My tree is a stake in the ground,
as I am a leaf in the wind.
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