Poem 51

tree time in just a few days

Fingerpads and fingerprints
Rest wrinkled in weaving fibers of
This pillar.
Come away come away
Come away with me
Up up… with straining, buckling
Joints to climb.
Push up. Up.
Come up. Come up.
Come away with me.
Your hands and my hands
Will follow the same ladder up.
You will climb and I will follow.
I will follow you.
You and I and weaving protests
Groaning murmurs from this tree
You and I will ascend upon him
Come away come away.
Come away with me.
–ECW
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