Dear Mr. Oak

I will wait
I will till you’re done hibernating
Till the threat of snows shall have faded
Till the fear of pests shall have waned
But until then tell me please..
Mr. Oak where do I rest?
I’m done reminiscing the good family moments
spent here,
The meals we ate here served more than empty stomachs
but uplifted our spirits as a young family savored your warmth
Your belly was a spring of a rare cocktail that elicited tranquility
with every breath we fed our lungs
I need more than just a shade
I miss the gentle whisper of your leaves in the afternoon wind,
the serenity of your sight through my window and the gentle buzzing
of insects close to my ears whenever I sat here
Mr. Oak you’re a part of my family
I often think of you as an incarnation of my great grandfather; Hehir
My wife says she misses the fragrance of flowers of spring
she says she misses the moist scent of earth at your feet
But most importantly, please Mr. Oak Tree
Dress up again, in your green cardigan
because my first-born is on the way
he can’t find you naked.

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