Oh Me, Oh My!
I don't have the physical energy
I used to take for granted.
Now - pinches and jabs without warning
And the need for more rest,
Preferably in my own bed.
I'm so blessed to have a wide window
And from my pillow, trees to see.
Reaching tall over the rooftops,
Dominating the street.
In mid-winter, stripped to their naked cores,
Dark, wrinkled and scarred;
Writhing, twisting, coiling,
Spreading upward, outward
Into their gazillion twigs.
Each tree so different,
A study of strength and delicacy,
Of sheer tenacity!
This morning a thought flipped through my head.
'That tree reminds me of my brain:
A morass of branches and twigs
On the apex of My Trunk!'
What a dopey idea it was.
I laughed into my pillow,
Threw off the duvet
And got up, smiling.
But, to be honest,
Maybe it wasn't so weird.
Cynthia Buell Thomas, January, 2020