favorite trees

I have favorite trees everywhere I go.

On this side of Sugarite,
where the canyon leans close.

Over the pass to Trinidad,
where the road opens to sky.

At the Maxwell Wildlife Refuge,
where antelope graze beneath their watch.

Along the Climax Canyon trail,
where the wild walks almost close enough
to touch.

In Taos,
where I once camped,
and the night pressed its stars
against the branches.

On the road to doctor’s appointments,
companions through dread
and resilience.

At the hotel,
quiet companions
amid the noise
of arrivals and departures.

Even in Minnesota,
far from home,
where I stood as a guest
and somehow belonged.

Today,
in my own neighborhood,
where I sit beneath their shade,
watching the leaves dance.

On the other side of Sugarite,
where the dancing oaks
keep company
with the pines.

I think

they’ve been keeping me company

all along.