Dart’s Dark

Pick a tree, a tree
In woods or a park,
A tree that you like.

There you go. One tree.
Now, count all the rest
In those woods, that park.

Can’t? But you can see
There are a lot more,
Far more than your tree.

Say the whole world lives,
Spins, and makes its plans
Based on that one tree.

(An oak tree sounds good,
A big, old, sprawled tree,
But you pick your choice.)

In an oak’s dark shade,
You might hold that faith.
But take a few steps.

Still say the nights hinge
On your tree, the stars
Hung up in its leaves?