The heart of a tree creaks when the breeze comes in too fast.

Perhaps it cries as the breeze reminds it that it will die
     long, tall, and proud as its life might be.
Perhaps it is a battle cry that resounds through sap and wood
     the rage of stability confronted with wild wind.

Maybe, but when I hear the evergreens sigh
as the wind pulls their branches back and forth,
I hear a giant remembering the first time
the wind pulled at his roots.
I hear his heart break and fill
as mine does,
for I, like him,
remember home.

Part of the Book Seasons of Thought

All Poems →

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