Oh, love, you are whispering willow,
me beneath branches, breathing in oak, moss,
watching lichen grow. Drift me away
into far mountains, into ice, rugged
your bark pulls me back into my own coloratura,
dew on leaves tangle me vibrato, mud on feet, my palms,
surface roots prodding me safe from freeze,
canopy tendrils tickle as I natter away.
You, patient, greening, flavor sunshine,
choreograph our musky jade caress.
You firm, tall, bring our twigs into unison,
understand, all patience and wisdom.
I warble a capella melodies, you lullaby me
through wind and frost. Such cadences, such arias,
we blister in our sunshine, our voices spinto and bel canto.
I would die beneath your branches, ache out my love,
my heart verismo and your fingertips bowery coffin.
Kim is a poet and writer who dabbles in archeology and historical literary research. She is a differently-abled advocate and her email is open to the public. She writes because the alternative is unthinkable. Check out her website: https://www.kimmalinowskipoet.com/
Image (filtered), from Pixabay.
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