Invisible tree

Standing there. Rooted. Committed to the ground as if I might just float away otherwise. Naughty knots tangled and strangling themselves. Tall enough. Strong enough. But, completely invisible. Come to me for protection and food. My service is to you. But notice me. If you come back again and again and again, at least appreciate the convenience of my location. My consistency. I will continue to exist with enough water and enough sun. But I long to connect. You climb all over me and you keep cutting back my branches for a better view. Can you not appreciate the reality of my relation to your existence? Prominent and imperceptible. I should revel perhaps in my usefulness. I should carry perhaps a humble pride of leaves. Yet I find myself waving in the wind and waiting to see if you look my way. I modify and redesign myself every season for your attention not your amusment. I literally throw myself at your feet and then a little piece of me dies there. In desperation I am even guilty of stretching up from below hoping to trip up your routine. Alas, I am invisible and lonely if not deceptively peaceful looking. 

Blind Determination and a Blue Ball

Aimless little hobo pinched into a new cardboard box. Warm and dry and without cause. Then uncontrollably excited by a passing ball. Little bitch has been chasin this ball for years. It is perfect. That is what she was told. It certainly looks perfect. Not even a scratch after all these years. Blue, a beautiful blue, not faded or tainted. Just rolling for years around in her head and heart. She almost caught it once. But she was afraid it might burst and let it go. 

Luckily her attention span it short and she can be pulled away from her obsession for long periods, so long that it weakens the wanting. Stupid ball, who needs it. In her mind she buries it, deep in the ground. She can not have it but at least she doesn't have to see it. But then every so often, here it comes...how did it get out? And there it goes. Fuckin ball. Maybe she was destined to chase it. It may be that it was once hers in another life. Happiness can not be found in a ball can it? I mean in one specific ball! A ball is a ball. She has other ones, why are they not good enough. What is it about that one?

Curious thing the heart and head, blind determination and a blue ball. For now she sleeps with one eye open, wondering if it will pass again. Eventually she will tire and fall asleep and think she only dreamt it. And maybe she did. Maybe it is all it ever was, a dream...and maybe not even hers.