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,
a hidden language,
and by touch we speak,
myself and ancient tulip tree,
share spells through silent system,
wrinkled body ‘gainst wrinkled hand.
Is that not real wisdom?
© 2022 | K.Hartless
This poem was written the fall outdoors, while I was enjoying a meditative book of poetry entitled, “Nature Speaks” written by the talented Jeff Flesch.
The poems nested inside this collection are inspirational, grounded, and just plain gorgeous.
A huge thank you to Jeff for featuring my poem last week on his website JeffFlesch.com. I was honored to have my poem posted on his site.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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