Trees

Heaven knows how many
trees I’ve climbed when my body
was still in a climbing way, how

many afternoons, especially
windy ones, I sat
perched on a limb that

rose and fell with every invisible
blow. Each tree was
a green ship in the wind-waves, every

branch a mast, every leafy height
a happiness that came without
even trying. I was that alive

and limber. Now I walk under them–
cool, beloved: the household
of such tall, kind sisters.

by Mary Oliver