The tree in my backyard
is tall
and strong.
I used to climb it often
using its boughs to pull myself
until I could go no higher.
The tree begins to rock
slowly
the powerful winds draw creaks
and groans.
My hands rest lightly on its weathered
gray skin
the leaves above me flap
their smooth backs flashing vibrant green
until they fall
slowly
twisting through the cold air
then resting soft undersides
on hard gravel
where they brown
before crackling underfoot.
But me it holds aloft
cradling me in its worn arms
and as the rains begin to fall
and the branches grow slick
But I still feel sheltered
lulled to a sense of security by its rocking
back
and forth
comforted
by its creaks and groans.
the tap tap tap of the downpour
on my skin
leaving me cold and shivering
and the tree begins to not feel quite so secure
quite so steady
I slowly slide down its smooth sides
lowering myself to the leaf carpeted ground
carefully
before scurrying inside
to watch the chaos unfold
Watch the storm tear at my tree
at my haven
its umbrella of leaves ripped right off its back
The tree in my backyard
was tall
and strong