The Wind Trees Keep

 [Poetry], Sonnets, The Timid Leaper  Comments Off on The Wind Trees Keep
Aug 312011
 

Trees that have it in them to be a wood
Gather dark thoughts where bare hilltop stood.
Branch to branch entreats, and root goes out to root
Entangling dirt with movement deliberate
As worms, and mix their living sinews
With cold dead earth, its coldness to renew
And above the burning hilltop bring
A shadowy wing never alighting.
Starless night hovers where noon once reigned
And exiles grass, and laughing feet detains
With extricating minuets of wait
And then pass on,-- a guardless garden gate
Forever shuddering in the wind trees keep,
Murmuring night-long while the world's asleep.

No Effigy

 [Poetry], The Timid Leaper  Comments Off on No Effigy
Aug 312011
 

A tree must burn to be.
When summer's fellow ardor
Comes, they sway up, the trees,
The way that flame and flame
Combine in a making game
When what they are is brought too near,
And are pulled apart by wind
Playfully alone again.
A large sweet-smelling cedar
Held itself all summer
As constant-shaped as flame,
With a slow, slow burning sound
Of leaves, and the settling tick
Of branch that knocks on branch.
Where the woods blaze thickest
There comes a woodsey whoosh
That undoes my breath;
All the leaves alloyed sun-molten.
The fall will show them golden.
What have trees but trees
To prove that inside fire might be?
Trees have no effigy to burn.