were a message, a breeze, a memory a leaf
to be shed in fall every year,
or a new ring to be grown , inside
a tale of rainfall, or droughts
if I were cut open
a tale of shining suns
dry seasons stunting
might expose the sap of yesterday
the history
of a tall proud tree
who made
oxygen from
CO2 and sunlight and
dreamed
of growing far
larger
stronger
with more seeds
more limbs
more leaves