trees without language skies of unease
and yet there is something.
once again, unameable
and you must quiet yourself to hear
what doesn't add up in their calibrations.
green circuits whispering each to each
roots that reach deeper than we knew
beyond earth's core
there is an open door we whispered
in a childhood where we used to come and go
and I know then distinctly the trees were whispering
it's not as if we're on the map or if we can find our way back
plotted on graph paper
before the forests close, a someting else inside glows
Tinkerbell light, a lantern through the hail storms
the slim chance we have someday to be heard
the last of the mercury dimes counted out
our secret love for the ruby throated birds their song their song
and we are on the shore where they will not come
to take our words away.
mary angela douglas 3 april 2018
and yet there is something.
once again, unameable
and you must quiet yourself to hear
what doesn't add up in their calibrations.
green circuits whispering each to each
roots that reach deeper than we knew
beyond earth's core
there is an open door we whispered
in a childhood where we used to come and go
and I know then distinctly the trees were whispering
it's not as if we're on the map or if we can find our way back
plotted on graph paper
before the forests close, a someting else inside glows
Tinkerbell light, a lantern through the hail storms
the slim chance we have someday to be heard
the last of the mercury dimes counted out
our secret love for the ruby throated birds their song their song
and we are on the shore where they will not come
to take our words away.
mary angela douglas 3 april 2018
