Category: trees
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How Nothing Gets Done
after a storm wishing you had a saw doesn’t clear debris blocking the path through the woods or cut and stack firewood in your yard or build a fire to sit around with friends 2-28-20
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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…
My husband's poetry 