To The Tree Outside My Window At The Old Rooming House

When I was an orphan you took me in, your branches were my only green. The moon was a tenant in them, too, my only other friend. Back here in the old neighborhood a couple days, I thought I'd visit, but you're gone too and left no forwarding address. Today I live in the sky with a human playmate I've found. The moon stops by our place sometimes, beams at us through the window as we clatter our pots and pans. I'll tell our old companion I was here, and even if on her far-flung travels she finds no trace of you, your green still soothes me and I can hear your leaf-lattice murmuring in my heart.