This tree is where I fell and hurt my knee.
I can remember because mother put a Band-aid on me.
And oh, oh, look I carved my initials in this tree,
Yes it holds precious memories.
My dad put my first swing in this tree.
He built a tree house for my sister and me.
I learned from this tree, the color orange was hard for me.
But in autumn the leaves fell all around me
Yes this tree showed the different colors to me.
My secrets I shared with this tree
A writer one day I hoped to be.
We shared the sun and the cold, my darkest secrets it never told.
I remember asking how old was this tree,
And a branch whispering no one knows but me.
You see when I grow up
I want to relax and enjoy this tree’s brushes with the wind.
Because one day this tree embraced me as a friend.
Yes this tall, strong rustling beauty is still standing duty.