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…