Painting by Jill Somoza
About The Trees
It's clouding, and the tree tops
sway. What if a storm
is brewing?
Even deeper in the woods,
the pines won't
shelter me from above.
They grow toward
the sun and rain, impervious
in their bark,
sap oozing upward.
How could they ever
know my home-grown fear
of living out of doors?
They're rooted
in the open
and grow protective clothing
on their backs.
Arms to the wind, they absorb
the colors of the ground.
Even the squirrels and birds cavorting
in their limbs can't hear them
breathe.
Joseph Somoza
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