Of Trees:

Mark Nichols

I say hello to the birds and bees, though

They mock me with their reticence.

No one says hello to me.


Stopping to mourn a fallen tree, whose

Heel was aquiescence.

I say hello to the birds and bees.


Have shed more tears for love than fear and more still just for thee:

In times when pain flows out again,

No one says hello to me.


As if I had not ears to hear nor eyes for me to see;

I think they sense my arborescence:

I say hello to the birds and bees.


Willows will weep for all the trees; as if

Bowing to hide their countenance. Still,

No one says hello to me.


Has anyone tears yet wept for me? Or

Power to transcend indolence?

I say hello to the birds and bees.

No one says hello to me.