A Tree Otherwise Rooted

A tree bends down its branches,

pulls up its roots by the shin,

and walks toward the beautiful maple;

having been wild for her

since they were both but seeds.

 

The symphony of streams

along their shared view—shared for many days

and months and years—gleams up

as dirt is wrenched from the long-remaining

ground and into the lapsing water.

 

Fully erect when released, the days

have passed rather like seconds in the streams

that flow readily in their shared view

for what the future should hold—

as was outlined when dreamed of in the past.

 

And so in its infancy of lust—called on

by the charm of a lover with a shared view

of the begging and pulsing streams,

which contain the dreams they hope to share

of what should be—

 

a tree bends down its branches,

pulls up its roots by the shin,

and walks toward the beautiful maple;

having been wild for her

since they were both but seeds.

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