When I was in college, and got down and discouraged
I would sometimes climb a tree near where I lived
and sit there a while.
Somehow it helped.
Perhaps it made me feel like a boy again, shinnying up a tree.
It may have been the trunk gave me a sense of being held
by something strong and sturdy.
Perhaps the spreading branches gave me a wider view
or maybe they were a hiding place
if I didn’t want to be seen.
I’m not sure why it helped.
All I know is that I hate it
when one of the great ones
gets cut down.