and post notes and photos about your poem like Keith Trestrail.
In the mists of the giant bark beneath
rise old growth saplings out of crag and earth,
where tumbles that ancient evergreen leaf
to marvel at your great and splendid girth.
That footing shoot, that pod, that budding prong
by arterial root in time of yield,
while ringed trunk does broaden rotund and long
and furrowed skin forms its tubular shield.
Upon sky perch out of mossy thickets
the sylvan canopy the clouds do climb...
to fell, to log, to mill into pickets
tempers not this atrium heart of mine!
It does me good (those sap bathed arms bended)
to see that mighty scaffold extended.
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2017