(no subject)
all my life there have been giant trees;
sentinels of the summer outside my window.
branches like fists and outstretched palms
in faith and fury, or perhaps like a compass
grown from stars and pointing home with
the burning command: "grow"
when the breeze sifts through the leaves
like it would her white cotton dresses
i am inspired to take the words i own
and bury them in the open grass, so
i don't interfere with the planet's
gorgeous, shimmering song