The tree stands stoic and waiting
For nobody but itself
It breathes in and out
Visible in the morning fog
Its scandalous activities from the night
Evident in the dew on blades of grass
The tree dances as the wind whispers
Giggles and gossip through its leaves
Rainfall coming as a gift
Instead of a curse
At dusk the sun burns the tree with
Its fiery kisses
Leaving no doubt of who truly owns the land
The sun
A mistress leaving gifts for
A wife to find
The tree begins the long and dark night
Breathes in the moonlight and thanks
The sun for all her gifts of day
But the tree continues to wait
For no one
But itself