the trees speak
whether the wind blows
or remains still
but to hear
you must be silent
Tag: trees
damage (20220412)
this fir tree grew
as twins
two trunks in the soft earth
on the slope
one has fallen
uprooted by wind
betrayed by loose
wet soil
its roots exposed
the twin remains
still tall
but leaning now
trunk twisted
and cracked
they explain nothing
they explain everything
haiku by the woods (20210416)
the sound of the birds
the sound of the frogs in the forest
the sun sets
lack of foresight (20170323)
the whistling
of the wind in the birches
i have forgotten my coat
again
Poem 20151206
the trees in dark descend
as the sun rends earth from light
but with slow, gentle touch
like a baby’s first haircut
the sky and clouds pink
like young skin
Poem 20150325
i whisper a secret in your ear
you smile, rise up
from where we sit
and walk barefoot
across the grass
to lean against an old fence
you try not to look at me
but i catch you anyway
a stream sings about rocks
and fish and water splashing
and in the distance
a handful of trees
whisper their own secrets
to each other
leaf to leaf
and branch to branch
your skin shines
like moonlight
and you move
like moonlight
illuminating everything
with each footstep
and beneath your toes
the grass
whispers a secret
Pome 20150206
the grass explodes
out of the earth
in ragged patterns
begging for the mower’s blade
the trees bud green and white
with fresh leaves
and new branches
the flowers that have survived
winter
open their faces
unfolding like flags
we won’t surrender
we reach for the sun
we have waited for spring
and spring has not
forgotten us
Poem 20150129
i could write a poem
about the trees i have planted
in my back yard
i can see them from the family room
i can almost see them from
my office
but not from a seated position
i have to stand in the doorframe
and crane my neck
to see the silver sheen
and the spindly avocado
but absent from view are
the lemon and lime trees
the trees i was most excited
to put in the ground
the lemon has blossoms on it now
and reminds me of all the things
in my life that blossom
that swell from a green bud
into the promise of fruit
and finally into the fruit itself
sometimes the fruit is small
or bitter
or ugly
but usually
it is a miracle
Poem 20141221
the wind blew
and the trees shushed the twittering birds
in their branches
–that which slumbers must
forever dream beneath the loam–
and the birds which sang before
sang no more
and their tongues shriveled in their mouths
and their feathers became hard like scales
and they fell
flightless to the ground
and though they made not a sound
something stirred
from sleep
Words and Feathers 