Spirit. Tree. There’s something of me. Spirit Tree, I am thee. There’s something of me in this tree. The me. The tree. The spirit be.
I don’t know what that’s all about. Word play, mostly. But across the street from our elementary school (where I was for the Halloween Parade earlier this morning and where I’ll be hosting 280 guests for a costume party to raise money for our reading program — gack!) is this tree.
You may say it’s just a maple. You may say, OK, it’s not just a maple. It’s probaby a Japanese maple. But that’s all. You’d be wrong, though. An overcast day. How the red burns. Its own light. Source. This tree is love or something close to it. (I even like how it looks in the second photo, though it came out all fuzzy.)
Not that the world needs one more fall or red leaf poem, but maybe I’ll write about it once the PTO costume party madness clears my brain.
It will go away, right? It’s not a permanent affliction, is it? Maybe when it’s over I’ll post a picture of my costume. Hint: It’s red. Hint: It’s not a tree.