Photo by Silvia Kniss
Address to the Trees I Walk Past
by: Lizzie Boyer
you are bare of leaves, naked
in preparation for winter:
pictures taken of you and
your friends as you lose
your color to the cold
biting my fingers soft.
your spindly branches
reach to the sky,
arch over the sidewalk
as people pass by.
the squirrels seem to like you,
scampering up your trunk
and hiding close.
the snow gathers in chunks
on your branches,
deep in your core.
too much weight
don’t want to risk your chances
you release your hold
of the cold wood and it
splinters to the ground
to be trampled and snapped.
you scream and
no one hears,
because why would they care
about a dead tree.