Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Jeremy Seligson writes





4.

T
R
E
E
S






The
          woods
                        lasts
                                    longer

            when
                        you
                                    walk
                                                slowly

The
            woods
                        lasts
                                    longer


When
            you
                        stop
                                    thinking
           
                        trees
                             go
                                       marching
                                                by
When
            you
                        stop
                                    thinking



Creatures
                        come
                                    for
                                                you
            When
                        you
                                    stop
                                                walking

          Creatures
                   come
                             for
                                      you

 
 
                        She
                                    steps

                                    on
                                                a
                                                            stump

                        spreads
                                    arms
                  
                                      and
                                                smiles


Sun
            fills
                        up                   

                                    Miss
                                      Magnolia’s
                                                          navel
            Sun
                        fills
                                    up



            Leaf~
                        less,                                                    
                                              white
                                                petals
                                                                        open
                                   
                                                Leaf~
                                                            less,    
                                   

                                                Splendor
                                                            out
                                                                        of
                                                                                    shadows

                    our
                             m a g n o l i a 
                                                p e t a l 
                                                          s w a n


Wonderfully,
                        she
                                    arches
                                                and
                                    crouches

                                                reaches
                                                            up,
                                                                        on
                                                            up
                                    green
                                                hair
                                                            and
                                                                        finger
                                                                                    ~tips
                                               
                                                                        for
                                                                   stars


            Elegant
arms
            feel
                        to
                                    sides

            and
                        reach
                                    for
                                                sun

                                    over
                                                girls   
                                                crossing

                                                                        walk~
                                                                                    ways   
                                                                        and
                                                                                    lawns


                                                            Sister
                                                                        trees
                                                            embrace
           
                                    elbows
                        and
                                    shoulders

            Green
                        hearts
                                    over
                        head
                       



                                      Mulberry                                           
                             trunk
                   curls
                                    about

                        for
                                    Grandma
                                                to
                                                            snooze
                                                                        on

She
            sweeps
                        out
            a
                   carpet

                                    of
                                                pink   
                             and
                                                yellow
                                                            leaves
                   of
                                    pink    
                        and
                                    yellow
                                                leaves


A
            row
                        of
                                    golden
                                      brothers

          above
                        one
                                    of
                                                silver
                                                sisters,

“Pretty
            leaves
                       
                        for
                                    sale!”


            “Could
                        you
teach
            me

                        how
            you
                        talk
                                    to
                                                trees?”

“That’s
            my
                        secret!

            complains
                        Auntie



“Some~
            day,

                        your
                                    secret
                                                will
                       
pass
          on
                    with
                             you

            and
                        the
                                    trees
will
            cry”


 

            She
                        grimaces,

“One
            day,
                        while
            I
                        was                 
                             dancing
                   through
                             the
                                      woods

I
             saw
                        leaves
                                    dancing,
                                                too


            When
                        I’d
                                    stand
                                                still
           
                                    so
                                                would
                                                            they

                                    I
                                                sang
                                                            and
                                                found

                                                            a
                                      song
                                                            in
                                                                        my
                                                                                    soul


                                                and
                                                            it
                                                was
                                                            sung
                                                                        by
                                                                   trees”


          Oak
                   grumbles,

                             How
                                                about

                                    a
                                                back
                                                            rub …?”


                        “Itch
            your
                        foot
                                   
                                    on
                                                my
                                    roots,
                                                too,”
           
                                                            “Ahhh …”
           



            Sweet
                        Cherry
                                    smiles
           
                                                Hug
                                                me,
                                                         sir !

                                    Squeeze
                                                your
                                                            heart
                                                                        out!”


                        She
            puckers
                        up                                           
                                    leafy
                                                lips,

            Kiss
                   me,
                             quickly!”


Lavishly,
            she
                        spreads
                                    limbs,

“Deary,
            now
shall
            we                   
                        make
                                    love?”


  
                                                 White
                                                Buddha

                                                            steps
                                                            back,
                                                            s h y

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