A trunk stands proudly with its toes in the earth
looking much like two people in a tight embrace
the branches streaming off in many directions
reminding me of brain wiring carrying so many thoughts.
Always in two, the bough separates
like a giant catapult ready to fire
then her thoughts take the left side
his the right, as each branch divides into two.
And so it continues, two into two
reflecting the two embracing below
his side shielding her from the sun
her side housing nests and infants.
I stare at this tree for an age,
I see fruit, flowers and many many leaves
sometimes I pretend to count them all
other times I watch them fall.
Summer comes and goes,
autumn reveals its nakedness
winter whitewashes every tentacle
Yet it still stands proud,
