Do you remember that tree outside of our first grade classroom? That tree was enormous It was the color of a dusty elephant But with flakey skin You could pick it off and crunch In the palm of your hand
It must have been dead Long before it was ours Never any bugs Or mold or moss
Nothing to stop five-year-olds From laying in its roots
It grew into a “Y” before it died Split about seven feet off the ground Perfect for a first imaginary fort A manhunt hiding spot or a goal post For recess super bowls
I can remember it With us sitting beneath it At five, at eight, at twelve Sitting Indian-style Picking blades of grass To whistle between our thumbs
They mulched that tree years ago It’s chopped and spread under the new playground Keeping kids safe from falls If only we could have explained How much it protected when it still stood…