A wind blows upon my face
Through the half-opened window.
Spring is upon us.
Birds chirp of their late-night flights,
Young children revel in early thoughts of sun,
But the morning star has sunk its rays
Below the seemingly flat horizon,
Casting dim shadows on our freshly mowed back lawn.
As I still sit here
I notice a black branch
Caught in the arms of its body.
I wonder how such a stable limb
Can so easily be torn off by a seemingly fragile wind.
I've never thought of it before
But it now seems odd.
I imagine a human being
You or me
Planted firmly in the ground
Apparently footless but definitely not.
I imagine a wind blowing
And wonder if it would be so strong
As to tear off an arm
Or a head
I wonder if anyone has ever tried.
As I wipe myself
Of these thoughts
I realize how human those trees are
How they would rather not
Be torn apart
Hug the nearest tree