My tree

My feet crunching the earth beneath me

I lay eyes on my tree

the pale bark that is on the wide smooth trunk

climbing itself up the washed-out, dried green leaves that make the crippling sound that my ears are intrigued to listen to

I run my soft fingertips down the thick pale trunk

I suddenly feel a light touch on my delicate head

My hand finds its way to my head

The feel of a leaf soothes my body

The leaf crunches in my hand and I turn and yet again I feel the earth beneath me crunching. 

Don't take away my tree.