poem-trees

refound this poem of a couple months ago
I actually neglected to date it
but it came after the poem of february 19th
and before the poem of may 7th
so it must be somewhere in there ...

~

one hand in the trees
one hand on your heart
it's a long stretch across this vast unknown
my fingers traverse mist and cloud
through my tomb and shroud
and stream
until they reach that quickening beat
your gentle skin heat
beneath your breast pocket.

one hand in the trees
one hand to the east
where the birdsong happens to call my name
on the weary wind's last protest
an ancient caress
and sigh
until it eases into my lungs
a breath that beckons
with each quiet exhale.

one hand is reaching
the other's in yours
my joints can't take the pressure much longer
over this still-widening crack
that never goes back
to smooth
but lingers like harsh words or a song
that doesn't belong
whose notes still hang in the air.

~

a snippet:

is that really me, that whirlwind
that flies in the wind
and flings to the ocean
and trails in the field
- her joy?