Accessible * Useful * Enjoyable Poetry
Song for the one who waits in the Forest
Woman in the pines, I bring you
A gift, branch of wild plums,
The white bloom of dusk
Still warm in their skins.
Woman who waits in quaking aspen,
I sought you in April but found
Hollow morels, their gaping marsh scent
Filling my breath with spore.
I came to you once, a girl offering
Bread of citroen wrapped in crisp paper,
A folded blue fan, afraid to turn
My back to your eyes.
Forest one, snow banks have melted
Water is rushing into
Its cleft. When I fall, you must
Promise to swallow the sound.
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