Trees grow mirrors
Trees grow roots
for soil and water,
roots for sun and air.
The grass, a reflecting pool,
the pavement, a man made mirror,
the side of a mountain, a shining jewel.
Do branches worry
about the vacuum of space
like roots do magma?
Is it scarier to watch a cloud
hide the sun, or never know
when water will come?
Are the roots jealous?
Locked beneath the earth,
their twin free
to breathe blue sky.
Do they ever worry
the other would let them die?
But if they ever fought, one choking
their brother, who would wither
first, wouldn’t matter—
wind takes care of one,
worms, the other