The Story Told in Personified Trees

I write all of this remembering the
story told in personified trees a 
couple growing old together is 
a beautiful sight the hobo 
bathes in the park's bathroom at 
night and the oranges are still cold 
even though I'm getting inquisitively 
negative glances from folks walking their
dogs what am I doing wrong barefoot 
with binoculars smoking a joint trying 
to catch a glimpse of a hawk or 
perhaps an owl can't 
we all just be here? I say it 
again to to myself 
"can't we all just be here?"

speckled in the noon sun sheltered 
by Love's cedar elms hair
gracing the ground throwing 
my head back people don't pay
attention to the plaques on benches I 
wonder what I ought to pay
more attention to but there's a
wand with a star sticking out of 
an old stump dead roots and all it's
nice to listen to the splash pad even
though it's artificial it can be 
a geyser of the mind like me on 
that one afternoon last January 
Terlingua fairy leaping across 
mountains God's allowance isn't approval 
thus I was there drinking my
wine keeping the peace in too
deep to walk away without
a broken heart anyway its adjacent to 
the blind leading the blind but I was
just covering my eyes a self
induced fog if you will
anyone pick the leaves out of my hair 
this November?