Visiting natve trees,
a reminder of the woods
where I use to wander. 
Smooth sumac, buckeyes,
growing under or along 
edges of a canopy made
of mulberry and oak,
red maple and hickory. 
Walnut trees and white pines
along with cedar, dogwood and
redbud filled my childhood 
yard, cooling the summer air
and hosting birds who sang
from the early morning 
Mockingbird to dusk’s sweet
Whippoorwill lulling us to sleep.
Trees were my climbing walls,
hiding places, roof for my tent
made of old bed sheets draped 
over branches. Spring peepers
sang a song of mimosa blossoms 
and forsythia blooming beside
a dusty driveway that trailed 
off toward the outside world.
The green world of trees
let me breathe dreams of home. 

KW  6/15/23