The Tree Outside The Window

Every once in a while someone writes

asking why I don’t write nature poems ( leaves

on the trees in front of my window  a color

I don’t know: not yellow or green not gold either

some of those) and though I see  leaves

changing the way we all are now from summer to today

although that tree has always been in front of my window

right in front of the conical turret where Margaret Meade

once sat I didn’t see her but I knew that’s where she was

inside although I love that tree not just because it is always

beautiful even in winter undressed still I would prefer if I had the choice

and in these words I do still I would prefer to describe my

old friend Emily Sterling as beautiful as that tree from Richmond

Virginia we were roommates in this apartment in the 70’s when

we found it together and how Emily’s mother a genteelish lady

from the South came to visit and she said You Girls Better Get

Some Curtains Otherwise You’ll Just Sit on That Couch and Stare

Right at That Tree All Day Long and You’ll Never Find a Husband

as if there was a link between the tree and the husband and we decided

that we would never get curtains, husbands or not.

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

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