Jeremy Seligson writes

4.

T

R

E

E

S

The

          woods

                        lasts

                                    longer

            when

                        you

                                    walk

                                                slowly

The

            woods

                        lasts

                                    longer

When

            you

                        stop

                                    thinking

           

                        trees

                             go

                                       marching

                                                by

When

            you

                        stop

                                    thinking

Creatures

                        come

                                    for

                                                you

            When

                        you

                                    stop

                                                walking

          Creatures

                   come

                             for

                                      you

 
 

                        She

                                    steps

                                    on

                                                a

                                                            stump

                        spreads

                                    arms

                  

                                      and

                                                smiles

Sun

            fills

                        up                   

                                    Miss

                                      Magnolia’s
                                                          navel

            Sun

                        fills

                                    up

            Leaf~

                        less,                                                    

                                              white

                                                petals

                                                                        open

                                   

                                                Leaf~

                                                            less,    

                                   

                                                Splendor

                                                            out

                                                                        of

                                                                                    shadows

                    our

                             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

arms

            feel

                        to

                                    sides

            and

                        reach

                                    for

                                                sun

                                    over

                                                girls   

                                                crossing

                                                                        walk~

                                                                                    ways   

                                                                        and

                                                                                    lawns

                                                            Sister

                                                                        trees

                                                            embrace

           

                                    elbows

                        and

                                    shoulders

            Green

                        hearts

                                    over

                        head

                       

                                      Mulberry                                           

                             trunk

                   curls

                                    about

                        for

                                    Grandma

                                                to

                                                            snooze

                                                                        on

She

            sweeps

                        out

            a

                   carpet

                                    of

                                                pink   

                             and

                                                yellow

                                                            leaves

                   of

                                    pink    

                        and

                                    yellow

                                                leaves

A

            row

                        of

                                    golden

                                      brothers

          above

                        one

                                    of

                                                silver

                                                sisters,

“Pretty

            leaves

                       

                        for

                                    sale!”

            “Could

                        you

teach

            me

                        how

            you

                        talk

                                    to

                                                trees?”

“That’s

            my

                        secret!”

            complains

                        Auntie

“Some~

            day,

                        your

                                    secret

                                                will

                       

pass

          on

                    with

                             you

            and

                        the

                                    trees

will

            cry”

 

            She

                        grimaces,

“One

            day,

                        while

            I

                        was                 

                             dancing

                   through

                             the

                                      woods

I

             saw

                        leaves

                                    dancing,

                                                too

            When

                        I’d

                                    stand

                                                still

           

                                    so

                                                would

                                                            they

                                    I

                                                sang

                                                            and

                                                found

                                                            a

                                      song

                                                            in

                                                                        my

                                                                                    soul

                                                and

                                                            it

                                                was

                                                            sung

                                                                        by

                                                                   trees”

          Oak

                   grumbles,

                             “How

                                                about

                                    a

                                                back

                                                            rub …?”

                        “Itch

            your

                        foot

                                   

                                    on

                                                my

                                    roots,

                                                too,”

           

                                                            “Ahhh …”

           

            Sweet

                        Cherry

                                    smiles

           

                                                “Hug

                                                me,

                                                         sir !

                                    Squeeze

                                                your

                                                            heart

                                                                        out!”

                        She

            puckers

                        up                                           

                                    leafy

                                                lips,

            “Kiss

                   me,

                             quickly!”

Lavishly,

            she

                        spreads

                                    limbs,

“Deary,

            now

shall

            we                   

                        make

                                    love?”

  

                                                 White

                                                Buddha

                                                            steps

                                                            back,

                                                            s h y