Cork Oak

I feel the breeze softly sweep through my leaves

The breeze is warm as it beats against my rough bark

The warm day elopes me 

They always approach me; they have done it ever since I sprouted out of the soil

It stretches its long arms around me its fingertips far from touching

This one is different, it has a distinctive aura

 It draws its arms away, the soft touch of its fingertips 

Its warmth left me cold from outside to within

I had always wished for company

So many trees here are young, full of life unaware of what is around them

One day they will understand the change 

Life has not always been as peaceful, I have seen many terrible moments

It sits down near me in the dry leaves

It sorts through the leaves as they ruffle; it pulls out rubbish

It stands up, finally someone who understands

That is one of the changes, plastic