the stubborn oaks

the roses are sleeping
beneath the blanket of leaves the wind
has knitted and ripped from the trees.

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numina

how You bend the universe
to meet me where i least expect it —

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root & leaf

these leaves had roots once.
this sheaf was a forest
(or a tree)
and birds nested
in its branches,
squirrels cannoned
from limb to limb
with death-defying grace.

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i suppose you have trees

the evening sun set the oak leaves glowing
like bronze against the still-blue sky,
and i wished i could show you
how beautiful it was, could explain
why i wished i could show you.

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network

the young grass stands slight
and fragile against the cold.

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wind

all day long
the wind has been
scouring the trees;
now the lawn is thick
with bronzed leaves of oak,
tender yellow of maple,
wild red and orange
and byzantium of gum.

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