My Heart Doesnt Know What It Needs

trees dilly-O sing. mellow skies surmise — they’re not quite blue, white nor gray. knocking in front and back — pileated woodpeckers, shockers with crests, crafty to home owls and bats, like royal courts of yore dillydally the enemy within mine walls. the oaks shade their eyes, press into my panes, scratch during a storm, rain on my parade. yet, I can’t help...but adore the pines and oaks, ivy that wraps serpentine around bark, wild flowers ready to leap on ballet toes, touch my nose with romantic scent. so Spring, the sachet of hidden things, like a freeze game come to life with intrigue, potentiality of pairings — doves, robins, crows and the like. what if i could climb the tall trunk high, below the unseen clouds — easy does it. my hair sailing like a pirate. my grin foolhardy. my heart doesn’t know what it needs. it needs trees. 2/27/2021