Parking Lot Tree
I feel sorry for the tree
in a parking lot.
He wants to soak in the sun
but its golden rays are barred
by these rude, boring buildings.
His roots are aching to go wide
but he’s trapped on a green island
in a concrete ocean.
Sometimes a bird rests in his leaves
singing a familiar song,
he's dreamed a thousand times.
He longs for friends like himself,
ignorant that they’re home
flourishing in the forest.
Still, he enjoys making
a home for these city birds,
and since he can’t go wide
he’ll have to grow deep.
He knows that he’ll leave
this parking lot one day
and dwell in a grove of glory.
Still, I feel out of place
as a tree
in a parking lot.