Two Trees Talking

We used to lay

On that wide blue bed

That was always

Made up perfectly

Even when we were

Laying flat in it at night.

 

On sweet salty afternoons

Between cleaning the floors

And making dinner

We would lay sideways

Looking out

Of the paint-splattered windows

That were crossed

With blue wooden panes.

 

Across the field out back

Were two tall furry trees

Long and slender

Like thumbs pointing

at the sky.

 

I would force Nana to stay

Even though she still

Held the cloth

She was always cleaning with

And I would make her guess

What the two trees looked like today.

 

We would lay and look

Letting the valley breeze

Push them together

Then apart

And then back together again.

 

I could never figure out

What they really looked like

With all their movement

But Nana always said

They looked like

Two people talking.

 

Now that I live

Mountains away from Nana

And our trees

I can now see

Two people talking

Like Nana and I did

Before there was

More than trees blowing

On sweet salty afternoons.

(For the beautiful woman who raised me – this lays with her under the stars and the trees gently swaying.)

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