what they started with: willow. willow bark for smoke
and for pain. tie the young branches into circles 
and it’s for play, the children understanding the circle
and joy therein.  you could do worse than start with willow.
there is grace in willow, willow allows us our interpretation of willow —

unlike oak, stony oak, granite oak always itself.
the tree presenting as rock. smell broken oak and you know at once
it’s more mineral than tree.  make up stories about oak, pretend to know it
at your peril.  even they only came to oak
once they’d mastered willow and birch and apprenticed to maple;

you can’t come straight at oak or it will snap you up.  
you need to know these things.  pretty soon they may be
the only allies we have left, the ones who get trees the way they get
us, the ones who look like us but don’t scare as easily.  you need to know
what they know about trees and how concrete fails when challenged by roots.

not going to suggest you’ll ever be one of them but with any luck
they may deign to let you survive.  maybe get to know willow, a few words of it
at the least: joy, smoke, pain, circles. no one knows if that will be enough
but it will be a start.  and no, i’m not coming with you.  it’s a little late for me
and someone has to hang back and listen to the concrete scream.