#203 ‘What waits
inside’
The tree resists
speaking of itself or moving aside
as it fills itself
with birds that get their beaks
into every new
bud, new leaf, every twitch
and every insect
and parasite
on the tree’s
perfectly wooden self
until finally the
tree regrets its greed for birds
and begins to drop
(and drop) its leaves around itself
like a man
emptying his bags on a train station
in a country town
where one hotel is full
and the other a
known provocation to suicide
so the leaves keep
falling
because they have
nowhere else to go
and the tree (the
tree) points upwards
as if to show
those birds it’s time to go
the tree like some
psychologist of the weather
predicts the birds
will know what’s best to do
and how to leave their
tree to its bark and insects
to its new and
hopeful leaves already tucked within
that tree with
their eyes closed, waiting (waiting)
just having an omg moment here, Kevin re: serendipity. I posted my waiting tree without having read yours....
ReplyDeleteKevin, That is so very fine. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem, Kevin.
ReplyDelete