Standing alongside a forgotten city,
trees travel through seasons.

I talk to a tree; with tears I wash its leaves,
and I feel its moving roots— extensions of grief.

The tree and I extend our shades
and entertain those who come near.

We absorb the sun’s rays, gather soil,
share the night’s loneliness, and collect stories.

We are home to travelers, occasional lovers.
We collect secrets and offer understanding.