Thursday, March 26, 2015

Out on a Limb

Been morning for hours.
From gray to green goes the scent on the breeze.
Up here!
Scraped knee.
and book.

The tree we thought banana,
Ugly in winter or spring,
Holds me high.
Thick, pliant arms.
This tree.
Dried pods burn like needles in the sole.
My perfect.