Sneakers have to be just right
Not too loose, not too tight,
Pedometer snugly on my hip,
Jacket and scarf for the long trip
Out I go, past the mailbox and laundry,
Past the playground and complex boundary,
Once on the sidewalk, with the cars whizzing by
I find myself smiling, not even sure why
Past the grocery and gas station, avoiding the traffic
I scurry across and get away from the racket
Up the steep road into back streets and then -
There it is! The oak tree, to commune once again
This old tree reaches stout branches up, up and up
And I lay my back firmly against its gnarled trunk
If I focus I see through the tree’s own eyes
Over rooftops and trees, to the mountains and skies
When the tree has informed me in her own language
I thank her and continue on down without anguish
I turn on the road and pass the house with the deer
It’s a fake one but it looks out at me with fake cheer
Then at last is the entrance to the pathway I crave
The trail which was once a railroad, now paved
But on either side of the path are more trees
More wise ones to talk with and hear their soft leaves
After some way, I stop to sit on a bench
There are insects and sparrows and even a finch
A butterfly colored in blue and dark black
Whizzes by as I get up and get back on track
At the end of my trail is a pond that in summer
Has two swans and ducks that are seen by all comers
But in winter, it sits under blankets of ice
And to watch the banks is still very nice
Returning the same way I came is my way
And I hope when I’m older I can do this each day
For now it’s a luxury only on weekends
But it helps me connect with the trees, my dear friends.
