In a flat winter landscape,
A lone tree wrote on a blackboard sky,
For chalk it used a fallen star:

I’m alone rooted to a cold soil
And can’t like the sparrow,
That uses me as a resting place,
Fly away when blue.

I wish to be a tree in a forest
Entwine my roots with a lady tree,
Strew my auburn harvest
And protect a grateful ground.

Failing that, I wish to be a palm tree,
On a tropical island,
Where my branches
Can protect wild goats from rain.

“Only in winters though,
When spring comes
I want to be a green leafed tree
That makes the flat landscape less bleak.”