I have a love affair with trees. Words penned on your slivers of wood. A shard, a pick for the ick in my teeth. I sit here, lazily staring into your flames. A lump on a log. Log limbs afire, keeping me warm, cooking my food. The fruit you bear, sweet and crunchy. Juices, juices. All the juiciness of a plum, a mango. Avocado, apple, pear. My humble abode, the shelter of oak, and pine, and walnut. I gaze upon your grain - swirling, sensual, seductive. The homes you provide, not only for I, but for the owl and squirrel, and porcupine. Moths stay away, your suit smells of cedar, living in a dark cave until the sad day you leave Her. This sacred mother, covered in green. Dendrites sky-reaching, our beautiful trees.
I have a love affair with trees. Trees, the air I breathe.