Huge tulip poplars
holding tiny leaves to the light,
each with its four incisors—
the sun doesn’t stand a chance.
Already it’s staging a sunset
on the back of my neck
as I crouch down
to puzzle over the maze of roads
on a yellow morel.
Huge tulip poplars
holding tiny leaves to the light,
each with its four incisors—
the sun doesn’t stand a chance.
Already it’s staging a sunset
on the back of my neck
as I crouch down
to puzzle over the maze of roads
on a yellow morel.