In the morning, I stand quietly, glowing in the soft light, my leaves swaying gently as laughter fills the air— everyone smiles at me like I’m something special. They call me beautiful, strong, peaceful— just a tree, yet somehow I matter when the sun is kind. But as the sky turns orange and slips into deep blue, the same people who praised me begin to whisper and walk faster, as if I’ve become something strange, something to fear. I don’t move, I don’t speak, I only stand and wonder, am I really so different now, or is it just the dark that changes hearts? “Oh honey,” I whisper to the wind, “am I so scary just because the light is gone?” Because I’m still me, even when the stars are watching. -lai