The power of invisiblity

It might be that trees have the power of invisibility.

It seems evident to me that they cannot walk away

and hide behind a light pole.

But people seldom remark on trees

except when they green in spring,

or color yellow and orange and red in the fall.

But on this winter’s day,

I suddenly saw the bare branches of some trees

stretch upwards to grasp at the sky.

And as I stepped along,

the nearer branches crossed over  

in front of farther branches

and then back over my head.

I think that it was the movement of irregular lines,

crossing and crossing again,

that caught my wandering eye.

And then I saw a sycamore standing tall,

silvery white bark reflecting the winter sun into my eyes.

I was not blinded,

but I may have blinked in some amazement,

I have passed by that same spot a hundred times

in a hundred and one days

and only today did I see that sycamore standing there.

It must be the ubiquity of trees,

or my mind preoccupied with everything else,

I walk beneath the sky almost entirely unaware.

Some days, I’m sure, I’ve missed even seeing the sky.

Invisibility is one answer I ponder,

but with the tips of my fingers losing sensation,

I at least have the thought to step into the bookstore.

And then, there she stood behind the counter,

her hair the silvery color of sycamore bark,

strands tied up and crossing over each other

in a knot reaching upwards from the back of her head.

I swear, she must have stood there a hundred times or more

when I have pushed open that door.

I think that beauty stands invisible

as we pass through a forest of trees.

for Trix