Btalking To My Tree Poem by Barry A. Lanier

'And so, how are you today my old oak friend? '
'How old are you these days? Really, one-hundred
and fifty-seven! Why I am only at fifty-six years yet
my bark is not as resilient as yours. Not that talkative
today, yes I understand for we both huddle beneath
the echoing silence of our aloneness. Making our
peace with the night by seconds in windowless
thought that keeps our eyes to the ceiling. We are
so much alike, you and me, loving the wind blowing
in our face, the soft summer rains, and moonlight
escorts. Our feet in the soft Georgia red clay, and
our face in the wind, we glory at yet another day,
another circle in our bark, and the promise of each
other. Thank you for being here for me today. I will
be back yet again, tomorrow.