Some trees look like sons to me. Some like mothers. Some are daughters, brides, A few like brothers. Some are like my grandfather, Sparsely leafed. Some like my grandmother Who threw choori to the crows. Some trees are like the friends I used to kiss and embrace. One is my beloved Sweet. Painful. There are trees I would like To throw on my shoulder playfully, There are trees I would like To kiss and then die. The trees sway together When strong winds blow. I wish I could render Their verdant, leafy language. I wish that I could Return as a tree And if you wanted to listen to my song I would sing it in the trees. The trees are like my mother, May their shade live forever.
If you wanted to live close to forever, the bristlecone pine would be a good bet. They can live for thousands of years. If I had to pick a tree to be it would be the giant sequoia out in Oregon, they are over 200 feet tall!
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