A Poem Before Dinner

My second favorite tree
stands not far from the creekside,
roots, limbs, bark,
imperfect angles extending in all directions.

My second favorite tree
has seen Midwestern Januarys,
March snow melts lapping at its trunk,
Augusts where the only relief is the moon.

My second favorite tree
has lead others in shedding its bark,
dropping its leaves each October
in ordered command.

My second favorite tree
has provided roost for birds,
harbored wildflowers and mushrooms
within the arc of its drip line.

My second favorite tree
stands his ground, tall and graceful,
good neighbor to the telephone poles
since childhood.

My second favorite tree,
wears its new Orange-Glo badge,
while awaiting clearing time
for a Nature Path.