My feet dangle from the tree
With an old trunk
And in orange leaves.
I listen to the crickets chirp
And the birds sing.
It is almost like they
Are singing to me.
The wind blows gently in my hair
Almost like the it is whispering a secret to me.
THEN
I feel the wind
Pick up
And the tree starts to sway.
The wind is stronger now and
It is almost screaming at me to get down.
But I am frozen
Like a picture in it’s frame.
I whisper to the wind “please stop”
THEN
I feel the wind
Slow down
And the trees stop swaying.
The wind is now whispering again
And I respond “thank you”
Gorzycki Middle School
7