The trees have ruddy cheeks
after a season of heavy drinking,
but as rays and rains retreat,
a skeletal hand
beckons me to lie in shadow
below my favorite tulip tree,
amidst the signature pattern
of DNA forestry.
If I escape into unknown dark,
a place sunlight can never hold,
will knowledge be bestowed
from the underside
of limb and branch?
I duck and take a chance, besides
enlightenment never trickles.
It is always avalanche.
The bark, a sort of braille,
is a hidden language,
and by touching it we speak,
myself and ancient tulip tree,
sharing spells through silent system,
wrinkled body ‘gainst wrinkled hand.
Is that not real wisdom?
The Flush of Fall was inspired by the poem Limbs and Leaves. You can read more of K.’s poetry at Yard Sale of Thoughts.
Author, #1 Amazon New Release Nature Speaks of Love and Sorrow
Co-Author, #1 Amazon Bestseller, Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women
Author of the Month, Jan/Feb 2022, Spillwords Press