Tag Archives: Tao of trees

born all ferocious

  play magnetic poetry here.

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barefoot and be-longing

, she talks to frogs and speaks the braille of trees, fills her hands with the wispy ghosts of clouds and sings out loud in cobalt blue and pine-pressed green. these things, they save her. they steep her deep in … Continue reading

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because the sunlight doesn’t quite reach her skin

, this poem is a mossy old oak falling in a forest with no one near ……………..to …….hear. .. in april, we poem. even on days we don’t wanna.   

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Sevenling: a poem of t(h)rees

  A poem of t(h)rees should begin perhaps with black ash, paper birch, scar -let oak. It would stretch skyward in the lightning of open palm, crepe myrtle, and weeping willow’d sway, to teach us the root-word ways of endings. … Continue reading

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Mast (Mask) and Sail

I dreamed I was more than moored, but less than Lake. That the shaking of these limbs (this breeze) was about more than trees (and less than song.) I dreamed I belonged to the sea, and that she gave me … Continue reading

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I’m ’Bout to Build a TreeHouse

… ’Cuz we need a place to be(e), a place for tree- age and sigh -lence. We’ll lace a ladder of purple fuzz and buzz, and the blizzard force of backward breeze. We’ll hiccup ………….(and down) and sneeze, and talk … Continue reading

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Black Willow

.. What is it that we are? Me, I can define myself by the height of that black willow, watching over the pond since we were kids. We’ve etched our secret loves on her trunk, threaded her wilting limbs through … Continue reading

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Stopping, by the Woods

{and miles to go} .. We are dropping our leaves again, and praying for rain. Staking our claims in silt and soil, toiling long and hard and deep. We are steeping our paper-thin souls in all this breeze. Please, let … Continue reading

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sat, ran

run one (plus one) (plus one) ……………..{miles} ; write none (cuz life’s too fun to click and clack.) hit the track. {go for three} watch the sun. listen to the trees. toast. play. tomorrow is another day. and that muse’ll … Continue reading

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Tao of Trees

… If we fall and make a slight sound and no one’s around, will our wisdom go to waste, just be erased? If we offer our skins for your unquiet songs, won’t you bid us to raise our own limbs, … Continue reading

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