Quince Tree

I wish I could climb the tree
To the highest branch and be free
Look out over the Caspian Sea
Of concrete and machines and death.

Do you only see the branches?
The fruits? The leaves?
Do your eyes descend to see the lonely trunk?
I wonder of the roots sailing in dirt seas
Are they so much more numerous
and broad than the branches?

Do they capture the NO PARKING sign in their tendrils?
Do they snake in and out of a skull?
Do they wish to be seen like the branches?
The fruits? The leaves?

I wish I could climb the roots
To the lowest bough and the rotting fruits
Look aimlessly into the Black Sea
Of birds and squirrels and skeletons.