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.