The Story Of a Soul

Sometimes

my soul hangs off me

in strips.

It makes me think of the bark

that peels from fat-trunked trees;

old layers tearing off in shards—

like maybe

the tree

might be crying.

So that’s what a sad soul looks like?

When I walk in nature

I wonder if it’s true.

Maybe a tree wears its soul

on the inside…

and the outside.

And maybe trees

need

to be hugged.

Just like we do.