Poetry Seed
I plant an image
and it comes up a poem
red, yellow and green.
It has leaves and limbs
and phrases never heard.
I walk around it and touch
it on all sides
realizing the body
is greater than the words.
The body is greater than my thoughts,
and late at night it talks to me.
I remember
an early morning drive
silent and still
skies of gold
new growth reaching for the sun
rising, rising from what was scorched
aspiring to be
old growth nearby
that knows no time
but knows all seasons at once.
I remember
telling a friend of the Great North Woods
of passing the passages that led
to campsites and clearings
passing.
I remember
coming back to her.
I tell her our story
unsure of where it begins
where the middle is,
and yet,
I don’t want it to end.
She clears a table
and comes back to refill my drink.
Neon lights in the window shine,
and she smiles at me-
there are stars in her eyes.
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