Poetry Seed

I plant an image and it comes up a poem red, yellow and green. It has leaves and limbs and phrases never heard. I walk around it and touch it on all sides realizing the body is greater than the words. The body is greater than my thoughts, and late at night it talks to me. I remember an early morning drive silent and still skies of gold new growth reaching for the sun rising, rising from what was scorched aspiring to be old growth nearby that knows no time but knows all seasons at once. I remember telling a friend of the Great North Woods of passing the passages that led to campsites and clearings passing. I remember coming back to her. I tell her our story unsure of where it begins where the middle is, and yet, I don’t want it to end. She clears a table and comes back to refill my drink. Neon lights in the window shine, and she smiles at me- there are stars in her eyes.