Jun 20

poet trees

I am the stone 
holding up pushing out
like the dust in afternoon sun

Tall birches like peaceful armies
mother maples constantly feeding and feeding 
each beech leaf eating away at the stem
the hemlocks are chimes walking in the wind

But I have no eyes for the millions 
only the thick bountiful apple
better than water, better than cream 
the juice makes me a wilderness princess
consumed by its lush crafts

I have no interest in every star
but from a farther view stars are only precious
when beheld by each other

I throw a stone across the pond 
watch it shimmer the apple tree and cause
the whole pond 
to erupt 

Be careful with trees
they are poets