Sunday, February 28

River-trees







Trees are rivers, flowing
not to the ocean
but to the Sun; or
when winter shivers
back to Earth. They are
slow, solid rivers
whose bones compose
much of Man’s feeble creations;
but it is their motion I value:
what remains can be felled,
chopped, burned, sawn up.
Perhaps I feel the same about myself.




February 2021

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