Beneath the purple tree

Small, blooming flowers.

Long, tall branches.

I could look at these for hours.

Short trunk tilted to the side,

Connected to branches, beaming with pride,

Stuck firmly to the ground, standing tall, feeling proud.

Branches dancing in the breeze like ballerinas doing batteries.

Birds flying, having fun.

Collecting sticks to build nests for their young.

Branches feeling bare in the winter air,

Waiting for spring to bring back its purple bling.

Roots of the tree growing its history.

Who will provide you with shade when I’m pulled from the ground?