Legs of birch.
Legs — long and light.
Feet rubbed by yellowing green leaves.
Feet polished by them.
Brown roots defining toes,
Legs — long and light.
Feet rubbed by yellowing green leaves.
Feet polished by them.
Brown roots defining toes,
naming them as in a nursery rhyme.
Appear. Stand. Stay.
Remain in my garden.
Throw out your white wings
green and gold,
your taint of crumbled dirt, of lichen
Remain in my garden.
Throw out your white wings
like a cutout from the sky,
a cloud come to ground.
And walk your wash of leaves,green and gold,
your taint of crumbled dirt, of lichen
and beneficial, bluish mold
in deep, deep tracks across my thoughtsas other loves would
along my sheets.
And there,
a birch’s white
and all its scatter
leave prints,
leave proofs
of where and when I did holda birch’s white
and all its scatter
of green and gold
from within an ancient story.One, that did come true for me.
