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Rain and roses

A Wish
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they called me girl, gave me the name

of one i’ll never see.

i wish they’d given me instead

the name of some nice tree.

a tree that rocks with every wind,

fast rooted in the ground,

straining its eager branches up

to where god’s looking down.

a neighbor to the grass and flowers.

a friend to all the skies,

a lovely tree that dares to romp

with every bird that flies.

a spruce, an elm, a tamarack;

dear heaven, how can there be

a lovelier name, and how i wish

they’d given one to me.

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