And I have always been the redwood

In honor of my best poet-crush, Billy Collins, and inspired by his poem, Litany.

I am the scent of rain on asphalt

As well as that of horses at dusk

warmed from the streaming Summer light.

I am the knocking call of the raven

And the silver peep-toe stilettos

And some days

The glossy orange tea kettle as well.

I have never been candlelight at midnight

Or the first wind of November

I am not a red delicious apple

And while their first appearance tugs at my breath

I have never been the crocus.

I am the fruit stand on the long highway

The merry chiming of a palette knife on glass

The cherry blossoms piled like pink snow

in late April, confusing the seasons

And always

yes

Always have I been the redwood.

And what, my friends, are you?