#poem #amwriting #wood

cropped-wood1.jpg

Wood

Knots look past jagged edges toward the large continent.

The dark canals spread across its stomach speak to history:

once, there was a tree, and before that, the shape of a tree.

When elephants are frightened, the earth trembles.

We have borrowed so much. This wind will leave

all things without ridges or the shape of ridges.

The hem of the sky will run gently into a green horizon.

One thought on “#poem #amwriting #wood

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