Be kind to the trees, Wind
I don’t care about much else
– Roofs and walls
Shallow vanities
needing upgrade anyway
But if the trees fall,
where will the birds sleep?
What will hold the flood?
Embrace the Earth?
Draw the soul from my bones
so that someday
someday
I might yet get a chance
to pay my debts?
Be kind to the trees, Wind
For if they do not stand,
I can’t walk
Written during a series of gusting storm fronts that swept through my city over several days. March came in like the proverbial lion this year. I wrote this while the wind howled, my house swayed, the dogwood branches clawed across my windows in the dark, and I just had one request.
Which was granted, after all.
The illustration is a small painting in ink and watercolor.
-Jen
Jen Fries Arts 