the linden tree

a tree, standing in branchy solidarity with its fellow companions

a tree hidden and unassuming with arms outstretched in a lazy embrace

waiting to be discovered

waiting to have a human

with calloused hands and a heart of naivety, I climbed

we were introduced to one another as we traded touch for cuts

at 20 feet, the perfect branch:

a hammock-shaped limb, like a wooden cupped hand

waiting to hold something/someone

another day, another ascent

I brought pencils in my teeth and books on my back

a tree became a desk and the canopy 

peered over my shoulder, cheating

reading my answers

another month, another ascent

not to be held

not to do homework

but to hide

and escape walls hunched under the weight of hateful words

to hide from parents erasing their marriage

and erasing each other

parents who pushed me into learning to love trees

rather than people