Old Sycamore tree by ThisCantBeHappening
Right there in the middle of the field,
A silver tree.
That tree all by itself
Wants me to be its eyes,
To tell it what's coming.
Or who. . .
I used to be able to see like that.
Two trees in one --
You can't decide what bark to wear!
. . .Like me.
Sometimes I think I have a light behind me
And I turn to see
If the moon is out.
Too bad I can't stop moving. . .