I could not be there when I was there, So I missed the color green. I planned my garden for homes I didn’t own, And trips to places I hadn’t been.
I slept in tents of trees and greenery, And traveled in my land, While sleeping in a compound, Under tents which matched the sand.
And when I could home travel, To take the trips I had so made, I slept under tree-top canopy, But it felt like I had stayed.
I could not be there when I was there, Which meant that I could never leave. So it took longer than I would have liked, To remember how to breathe.
I pay the forest back the loan, It gave me while I dreamed. I’ll dig and bury down the past, And cover it with seed.
I could not be there when I was there. So it will be there when I’m gone. And hopefully the wind will Play my son comforting songs.