THE TREE THAT CAPTURED SUNLIGHT
I sat staring,
out the window,
above my bed.
As restless urgent longings,
filled my young head.
There outside, in my backyard,
in the leaves of an old oak tree
It seemed to have captured sunlight
and showed it only to me.
It was way past midnight,
and I a girl of eight.
My mother would have yelled,
if she'd known I was up so late.
Yet, I held my vigil, which
had become a nightly ritual you see.
For the tree had captured sunlight,
and gifted it only to me.
When loneliness was too apparent,
and fear lifted its ugly head.
I crawled very quickly,
to the comfortable foot of my bed.
And imagined the branches reached down,
and the boughs cradled me.
This tree which captured sunlight,
then nightly comforted me.
When the wind would blow,
the leaves reflected light danced, swayed.
Spinning in the air, on the ground, and
against my nose-pressed windowpane.
Laughing at my solo antics,
and my childish revelry.
As daily it captured sunlight,
and each night presented it to me.