thirty poems number twelve

roots going
where do roots go when you move the tree

maybe stay where they are.   old folk don’t like change

maybe they dissolve into birds.   fly higher

maybe sprout fingers, playing in the dirt

counting is like memory, going the other way

but then I’m no tree.   maybe a shrub

4 thoughts on “thirty poems number twelve

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s