The rustle of rough leaves awakens me from my rest
And I gaze up at a dark sky as vast as the sea
And laugh as the stars tumble into my hair
“How green your leaves are!” the stars whisper in my hair.
“How bright with happiness you are,” I sigh.
“No. The sky is cold and lonely,” the stars moan.
“At least the birds don’t peck at your arms
and the squirrels don’t hide nuts in your armpits.”
“But the birds sing to you and the squirrels tickle
“True, I’m lucky to be a tree.”
“Alas, my nearest neighbor is ten light-years away.”
“But you guide people through the darkness.”
“Yes, we do,” the stars whisper, their voices tinted
with new light.
And as a blue jay’s soft feathers brush my arms,
I inhale the sharp green sent of pine,
and I laugh
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