the trees

The trees

As I stare at the trees wizzing by

I wonder about birds who fly through the sky.

They live in the trees I love so dear

but because I am short they fill me with fear.

I stare out the window of my bus

as I wait for the trees to come crying to us.

Because surely they don't like birds in their homes

who eat up their fruit and crap on garden gnomes

-dedicated to my tree hugger friend, Kathryn