Keep the Change

I bought a little place.

It suits me; you see.

I look out at the woods,

and the woods look back at me.

All these trees! Some are mothers, fathers.

There are childless widows.

It feels familiar, this new world.

I’m settling in, and I watch the trees.

For hours and days, I examine leaf and limb, finding

Swayed reflections of wound wood,

Excommunicated.

When a cell is damaged, a tree cannot go back

and fix or replace it.

Instead, it builds barrier zones

where damaged callus cells reform.

I look at the trees and see my own scars.

And the trees have eyes, swollen in their beseeching.

It’s time.

The kits are ready.

Put down that dish, come see our fancy wear!

We’ve changed colors again.

So can you.

Yesterday is ephemera.

I love my little rooms.

Cozy, tidy, waxing aromatic.

Here I will do great things.

Learn to cook, paint pretty pictures, parle francaise,

Slowly love takes root.

The trees watch, silently keeping my secrets.

They know the works.

I study cautiously.

What tenants find comfort in such sturdy branches?

I will learn through all the tender seasons.

Tout ‘a fait a l’heure, the next scene always rolling.

I'm fourth wall to fresh snow, il neige, icicles dangling,

playback buffering.

Arriving on a warm rainy-scented breeze,

a labor and delivery of budding flora.

Oh, the impertinence of starlight!

Creatures hurry their way home, tomorrow,

If you’re a good little bird,

And even if you’re not,

Circadian concerts proclaim a new dawn.

Tomorrow I’ll prune dead branches.

Once a lowly serf, I’m transformed.

A baroness juxtaposed where kings and queens take reign.

That’s my red bird, there’s my wishing well.

There’s not much left to wish for now.

Fear no wars, no injustice, no racial divide,

Where all of life is bathed in blissful certainty,

the only hint of a wider world

an occasional cry.

Listen closely. I’m not weeping.

It’s more rather a diva’s aria —

Come find peace in this hypno-kingdom!

Take rest in this Eden.

Enjoy this Tranquility.

This is truly real estate.

My trees share ancient wisdoms.

I see them

They see me

I see them

Seeing me

Back and forth, this intricate choreography

of fairy chess, which piece moves next?

Is she Advisor or Empress?

I can’t look away without yearning to come back,

Back to find new armies of leapers, hoppers, and nightriders.

Who has castled? Who will resign?

Each moment arrives in the correct sequence,

Surprises rousing.

...The trees watch me growing and I smile.