the oak tree

i've turned over so
many new leaves that i'm
an oak tree
on the lawn.
tall and wide,
rough barked.
i'm as tall as i'll
ever be with branches
reaching.
i'm just here now
for the duration.
not ready to fall
or to be cut down.
not ready for the saw
or for a summer storm full
of wind
and lightning
to have its way.
I still want someone to
climb my branches.
scale my arms,
and listen to me as a breeze
cascades against my
body. I want someone to
wrap their arms around
my trunk,
rake the leaves
that fall around me in
the shadow of my life.