Whenever I need you to,
you still yourself -
arms and body quiet,
reach soft fingers toward
my face, allow only
slight wisps of wind
to enter the space between us,
offer a steady shoulder
sheltered in privacy
to receive my confessions, concerns
feel the impact of my fears,
celebrate my delights,
actively listen.

Other times, life turns
and youÂ’re the one
full of sighs, secrets and story
revealed in whispers and waves

so I keep silent and absorb,
understanding the greens to rusts
of you
the fresh growth and the aching aged hollows
and weeping creaks.

Our scents mingle -
mine a melange of travels
in and out, over the roadways
and sidewalks
accented by the souvenirs
of the tell-tale traces I carry of my house,
cooking, skin creams
face powder, vanilla and the cat
back home

yours, a mysterious musk
of your domain outdoors
sweet earth rain wood acorn red squirrel pine sap.

Confidantes over countless Canadian
summers-into-falls-to-winters-back to spring
we've weathered together.

Through hot drought days or over ominous ice paths
I negotiate my route to the benefit of your presence
you, who waits, ever-patient.

I canÂ’t remember when you werenÂ’t there for me,
I for you and dread that day should come,
dear tree.

02/14/2006