Concerto for blunt instrument

An irregular heartbeat from d.o. to you. Not like a daily kos, more like a sometime sloth. Fast relief from the symptoms of blogarrhea and predicated on the understanding that the world is not a stage for our actions, rather it is a living organism upon which we depend for our existence.

Sunday, January 04, 2015

Small Boys/Big Trees

Small boys, big trees
his short embrace barely reached
third the way round
the largest Sassafras ever
bark deep, soft, tawny
sweet tonic leaves
far above, he must wait
for one to fall, and in the wait
looking way aloft, top unseen
unknown into sky
summer clouds ships at sail
and Robins' song, gold
sunset moments painting
shadowed bark, the windows
the warm walls inside.

Inside looking out at
Autumn leaves and
the black squirrels fast
at play round and round
and much later, that awful day
storm torn soft Sassafras
and the men who came to
fix the tree, biggest they've
ever seen, too bad about
the top and the boy grew
and the tree grew ill and
watched him move away.

The boy still holds the biggest
tree in morning's rise or
setting Sun, both gone
both together.