Trees are poems from the earth,
whether very short or long,
even when they’re large in girth,
they enchant us like a song.
Girls don’t like it when I stare,
but this isn’t true for trees.
That is why I often dare
giving them a gentle squeeze,
even when they’re short and stunted,
and their branches winter bare.
Never do they get affronted
if I touch them anywhere.
One day girls I hope will be
no less hostile to me than
silent, wonderfully, a tree
giving pleasure to a man.
8/25/05
gershon hepner
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mad-about-trees/
