The tree would only speak when the sun was at just the right angle to see the face woven into its gnarled bark. Mira waited until she saw into its eyes clearly to ask, “Why can I ask questions only now?”
“It’s when the light makes you look most like a tree,” the oak said.
Song Choice: I Can See Clearly - Johnny Nash
This poem was created as part of the Flash 55 for Verse Escape.