there’s trees that stand tall and wave
from some lofty place where
their tips touch the clouds
where they bathe in air and light

and jealousy runs into the ground
twisting and churning under your feet
and the bugs march on
and the bats never sleep
and the monkeys are out for blood
and there’s no sweet song

to blanket your ears from up above
but there’s vines and places to climb
go on, then
hold on tight