I have a love affair with trees.
Words penned on your slivers of wood.
A shard, a pick for the ick in my teeth.
I sit here, lazily staring into your flames.
A lump on a log.
Log limbs afire, keeping me warm, cooking my food.
The fruit you bear, sweet and crunchy. Juices, juices. All the juiciness of a plum, a mango.
Avocado, apple, pear.
My humble abode, the shelter of oak, and pine, and walnut.
I gaze upon your grain - swirling, sensual, seductive.
The homes you provide,
not only for I,
but for the owl and squirrel, and
porcupine.
Moths stay away, your suit smells of cedar,
living in a dark cave
until the sad day
you leave Her.
This sacred mother, covered in green.
Dendrites sky-reaching, our beautiful trees.
I have a love affair with trees. Trees, the air I breathe.