265.
Till we have said everything using
the same words
music won’t leave us alone
children blur the colors in their
books
they know that nothing has a line
around it
careful signals of a girl at peace
let me read my book to the center of
the earth
plum trees of Afalon truth of the
dragon
a castle in the cool core of the sun
a place previous to transformation
before the legal chemistry begins
a joyous anarch in skimpy clothes
as if it all could finally begin
again.
266.
At a certain point stop looking
at the trees start to read them
the self-planted and the other kind
human implants immigrants our fancies
jade exotics in exurban gardens
three hundred years and still speak
foreign
rose of Sharon smokebush lilac
self-taught espontaneos who choose to
land
and choose to stay tall and shady and
teaching
hue saturation and chroma in their
differences
distances between nature and the
actual
my father’s pine trees on the road to
Callicoon.
