Roaming my concrete block

Through a large fish tank window a lilac tree catches my eye,

Strolling past with my father, like a child on the hunt for wisdom, I ask, ‘Dad! What tree is that?’

‘A buddleia tree’, he replies.

‘No, it’s a lilac tree’, intervenes my mother.

Their competing sounds drown away as if I’m slowly bathed in water,

as my mother displays her Google search results to prove her win of the lilac tree.

I gaze at its wonder as if through a shop window, just out of my reach,

my wishful future glistening before me.

The grip that my hope has on that tree…