college campus trees

trees white
and green flash clouds
their leafy teeth. a line
of younger trees are each
tethered to white tipped farm posts,
sentinels of fragile limb and wind.
may they live until the day
my children climb them,
toes dug into bitten bark, birds
scattering at our imminence,
limbs trembling.  we’ll look
down at the grass, so well
manicured, dead on each
hacked end, wishing
it were trees, more able
to dance, tickle, whisper.
listen, it would say, you
must not live cut off
on top, faceless in a field.
there are other things to be.
reach out your arms, climb
the trees, see beyond me
then sing to me, weeping,
kissing your feet.