Category: trees
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Birch tree
a birch tree grew in my neighbor’s yard I would peel paper thin bark write letters for the wind to read snow would bend graceful arches of slender limbs to ground the winter – when ravaging ice snapped it at its base I quit writing messages to the wind 2-23-20
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Were you there?
Were you there when they hauled my leaves away? the last abdication of autumn The ones that held on longest remained loyal tethered to a branch when all the others fled If I had been there when they came with a beeping dump truck I would have gathered the leaves they missed and made sure…
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The Samsara tree
alone a tree stands by a field of plowed ground stands against the sky stands defiant roots reaching in limbs reaching out twists in the wind alone by a field of plowed ground silhouette against billowing clouds dances in storms brawny figure by a field of plowed ground branches hang arms nailed against the sky…
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a walk in the woods
winter warm and wet moss on bare ground soft and alive a wild thing long asleep waited for the right time the right sunlight temperature and rain bend down pet it tomorrow it will leave and not return for years ‘ 1-16-20
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Burnt incense
No one wraps the news with a rubber band throws it up on your porch to read at leisure anymore Talking heads deliver it hurled in sound bites – abusive verbal beatings I receive mine from my news feed refuse to be yelled at by the properly coiffed and groomed Sitting on the porch reading…
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a storm
Sit on side porch listen to the dark Wind roars angrily at trees trees shake their heads and laugh Lightning rumbles like a kettle drum Rain beats ground gurgles in drain pipes Sirens complain on their way to a call Distant train wails goodbye. as it leaves for the coast Sounds of a storm racing…
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Cayce river walk
In shade of an eddy where you drank children fished for brim and sunfish with a cane pole and a worm every summer you leaned a little more above the river towards the light where no trees stood I would sit at your feet watch spotted newts hide in plain sight and ask you the…
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The taste of fresh shelled walnuts
East of town along a gravel road next to a barbed wire fence a large walnut tree grew On a day ripe for playing Mom piled her kids in a ‘57’ DeSoto to pay a visit to a lonely tree We gathered up free walnuts in a burlap bag from weeds in the ditch under…
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Conversation with a dying cypress
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by
On the day before the longest night before the earth tilts back towards sun you walked high ground of cypress swamp among trunks stripped bare of green of fern, of leaf and vine You stood and asked questions of a dying cypress its root mound raised up on one side as if years ago it…
My husband's poetry 