Jeremy Seligson writes

5.

T

R

E

E

S

The

          woods

                        lasts

                                    longer

            when

                        you

                                    walk

                                                slowly

When

            you

                        stop

                                    thinking

           

                        trees

                             go

                                       marching

                                                          by

 

            When

                        you

                                    stand

                                                still

                   creatures

                                       come

         

                   for

                                    you

                            

                                                She

                                    balances

                                                                        on

                                                the

                                                                        stump

                        spreads

                                    arms

                  

                                       and

                                                laughs

Sun

            spot

                        on       

           

                                    the

                                      tree’s
                                                navel

            Before

                        green

                                    leaf,     

           

                                              one

                                                white

                                                           blossom

                                                                             opens

                                   

                                                Sailing

                                                            out

                                                                        of

                                                                                    shadows

                    the

                             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

                   limbs

            feel

                   to

                             sides

                        reaching

                                    out

                        for

                                    sun~

                                                lit

                                                            girls   

                                      on

                                                            walk~

                                                           ways 

                                                 and

                                                          lawns

                                                Sisters

                                                embrace

                                                from

                                                            elbows

                       

                                                                         ~ tulip

                                                                                    leaves

                                                                        over

                                                                                    head

                             Mulberry

                                      tree                                

                   leans

                                    over

                        for

                                    Auntie

                                                to

                                                            snooze

                                                                        on

She

            sweeps

                        out

            a

                        carpet

                                    of

                                                pink   

                             and

                                                yellow

                                                            leaves

                   of

                             pink  

                   and

                             yellow

                                      leaves

A

            heap

                        of

                                    golden

                                      brothers

            above

                        one

                                    of

                                                silver

                                                 sisters,

“Leaves

                   for

                              sale …!”

            “Could

                        you

tell

            me

                        how

            to

                        talk

                                    to

                   a

                             tree?”

“That’s

            my

                        secret,”

            says

                   Auntie

“Some~

            day,

                        with

                                    no

                                                one

                    to

                             share

                                      your

                                                secret

                                   

                                    your

                                                tree

                                                            could

                                                                        cry”

                    

                       

            She

                        grins,

“One

            day

                        while

          I

                   was             

                             dancing

                        through

                                    the

                                                woods

I

             saw

                        leaves

                                    dancing,

                                                too

            When

                        I

                                    stood

                                                still

           

                                    so

                                                did

                                                            they

                                    I

                                                sang

                                                            and

                                                found

                                                            a

                                       song

                                                 in

                                                          my

                                                                    soul

                                                and

                                                            it

                                                was

                                                            sung

                                                                        by

                                                                                    trees”

          Oak

                   says,

                                    “How

                                                about

                                    a

                                                back~

                                                            rub …?”

                                                                        “O.K.!!!”

                        “Scratch

            your

                        foot

                                   

                                    on

                        my

                                    roots?”

           

                                                            “Ahhh …!!!”