Trees

The leaves are changing colors
Green red orange yellow brown
I stand at my window
I cannot stop staring

The leaves are not this color
In Los Angeles
Not this color
Not in the jungle
Not on Adams or Crenshaw
Not on Pico or LaBrea

But right here right now
They are red orange yellow
I stand in front of my mirror
I am changing colors

I have become a tree
A Georgia tree
There are spots of gray at my temples
Brown on my teeth
Charcoal under my eyes
Red clay in my toes
Green in my eyes
Breeze on my tongue

I have become a tree
Where birds nest
And fly away
Where dogs piss
And make their mark
Where God whispers
The angels gather

It is raining now
And that is ok
Because I am a tree
We are made to stand tall through rain
Changing colors
Housing squirrels

It is raining now
And that is ok
The sun will shine
And I will still be a tree

A taller tree
Shading lovers
Forgiving the fearful

I was not this color in Los Angeles
Not in the jungle
Not on Adams or Pico
Not on Western or Slauson
And not on Degnan

And I am still the same tree
Taller
Older
Deeper
More colorful tree