Thinking Of Trees Poem by Mark Money

her eyes flit back and around
her head never moves
she's fast in her seat
probably thinking about trees.

'oaks and maples, ' she told me once,
'look pretty much the same; trunks and branches,
only some don't want to put down roots.'
she glances over, then glances away
what kind of trees won't keep her attention?

i don't think she spends time in the forest;
doesn't seem willing to water, prune, or feed.
seems content to observe
and can't prove she can touch or taste.
what kind of trees scare her away?

it was something i only understood later.
if she was hoping for love,
she was going about it all wrong
'cause it seemed to me
she was thinking of trees.

(1999-Tulsa, OK)