Arbor Vitae
I think I should have
Been born a tree -
- Maybe a silvered birch
With feather veined
Leaves -
- I could greet
My tall reflections
That swim saintly inside
The nearby streams -
- Or a lofty, leafy oak,
Crying slow orange tears in autumn
And being a shoulder
For solemn lonely birds
To cry on -
- It has been said
That I always had my head in the clouds.
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