You thought I was kidding, I thought you were stupid.

Walking, wandering, one day in the woods,
Sun spots like you see
In the movies, tracing closely, copying
The path I walked.
An old tree sat there.
Silent and simultaneously telling a thousand tales
With its scarred skin.
Peeling but still alive,
Reeling but at peace,
Feeling but out of touch
From the rest of us.
A ladder, never given life, led a path
Up the tree
But I couldn't see the top,
Craning my head like we did in
New York City, holding hands
And struggling to see
The sky.
But this forest is another kind
Of city,
Disintegrating instead of expanding.