Along the trail
A sign points to the Aslitsikimm
Named by the Blackfeet nation.
The Black Cottonwood.
Were I to be a tree,
I might choose this one.
Tall and strong.
The Black Cottonwood.
Thick, deeply furrowed
Dense outer gray bark,
Protecting and hiding inner layers.
The Black Cottonwood.
Wrinkled and spotted,
Blue-veined aging skin
Protecting and hiding inner thoughts.
Myself, a Human Cottonwood.
Sweet inner bark,
Below the surface,
offering nourishment.
The Black Cottonwood.
Sweet inner spirit,
Rising to the need,
Offering love,
Myself, a Human Cottonwood.
White, downy fluff
Cast to the winds,
Carrying the next generation
of Black Cottonwoods.
Stories, poems, words
Cast into the world
Carrying ideas and inspiration
to the next generation
of Human Cottonwoods.
©2022 Gail Greene Ouimet
Walks Across 
Gail, this is a wonderful poem! Cottonwood is indeed a gorgeous tree. Because of your poem I will admire it even more. I do see the cottonwood in you or you in the cottonwood. Every image you wrote makes perfect sense. And my favorite is the seeds carried by the wind as the words in your writings will be carried to generations to come. Perfect!
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Excellent. Great allegory.
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Awesome!
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