Stuart Rawlinson #86 - Flying Tree

All around spores
weightless seeds
crevices and cliff-cuts

breathe in
let it lodge
in your throat

vocal chords
flesh flaps
of sound

helicopters
twirl
spiral rudderless
down

come to rest
on a new
unbuilt home

an acorn
ready to split

above, on a
mountain

dress it in red
call it Emperor