Healing Poems 378

Tree Poem

It wasn’t that he wanted to take his life.
He wanted to take his death
into his own hands. There was
a difference, he knew, though he couldn’t
articulate it. More speculative than suicidal,
more curious than depressed,
more interested than not,
he didn’t want to talk to a therapist.
He wanted to talk to Walt Whitman.
He wanted to talk to his best friend from
kindergarten, who’d moved away
on the cusp of first grade, and he never
saw him again. He wanted to climb a tree
and sit up there all alone in the top branches
watching it absorb the carbon dioxide.
He had a bit of the tree in him himself.
He had similar aspirations
and spent much of his time in the branching
ramifications in his head. But because his children
would never live it down, he climbed
down from the tree in the car in the garage
every time, and walked back into his life with a few
leaves and twigs still sticking to his head.

~ Paul Hostovsky

2 thoughts on “Healing Poems 378

    • Hi David,

      You’re welcome. He does a lot of heavy emotional poems. The ones of his I love the most are the poems with an uplift at the end. Not all of them do, some are really about intense human experiences. But in some way the way he focuses on the human experience is highly exceptional, in my opinion. I’m still exploring him as a poet and haven’t gotten very far yet, but I know that I admire him, his artistry, and his courage.

      This poem made me think of my own experiences with trees. Especially the part about wanting to climb trees as an adult and all the reasons that I don’t. And a little like my poem At Seventeen about being 17 and having a tree as my best friend.

      I have a bit of the tree in me myself. I think perhaps you have a bit of the tree as well.

      Good and healing thoughts to yous.


      Liked by 1 person

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