Hope

An old cottonwood stands jauntily outside my window

I sometimes watch it as I lie in bed

when the cool smell of rain is on the air

I can hear the wind in the distance

but the tree stays quiet

while I speak to it

Later, I will watch the rain drip from the leaves

and listen for its response

This morning I went down to it

its trunk still wet from the rain

I walked all around it

As I touched the bark

rough on my pliable hands

I looked up

it seemed to surround and protect me

I am alone today

I’ll be alone tomorrow

but my loneliness has a place now

a purpose which I share each night

with the jaunty old cottonwood tree

as I sleep