My Neighborhood

crisp cold air
early morning sunlight
filtered in by the
wise old trees
who have seen us
come and go
and who know
all the names
of all the
squirrels
birds
dogs
cats
humans
that live among them
the trees pay attention
even if we don't
they watch over our neighborhood
greeting me in the morning
a reminder of God's spectacular creation
they provide cool shade
from persistent afternoon sun
and stand guard at night
to watch over us
their wards
they are God's watchmen
those trees,
and their gnarled branches
are still proud
to be reaching toward heaven

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