black trees raining afternoon
bark open like flesh, lung
tissue. I touch gently & speak to
striped and sweating
shapes and letters
soft blue moss tissue
sitting in wet forest
a rock
sinking into pine needle floor
a cathedral of black trees
black bodies standing guard
making a quiet shelter
you trees hear everything
bowing with the rain
crying trees & rejoicing trees
trees bravely growing into the sky
in a world that could cut you down
at anytime

trenches full of clear water & leaves
pine needles, running creek ground
the sweat tree tears
caressing me softly in mist
no one in the woods but me & the running
boy
then, stopping to smoke & old man
color of the dusk catching me
blowing gust into the trees
hearing bells, a celebration outside
church bells and rain, the coming of
something

R:
“those were all writings”
what the trees are saying
“one meta-text,” come one meta-breath
smooth operator on the standard
transmission last night
flipping the nickel for what movie
we’ll see. it lands tails against
the wall on the crooked
floor
how can we ever record the moments of ecstasy?
shooing away the obscene theater chatter behind
us with a hand through my hair