The Language
There is a language
in earth and in trees
that pushes from deep
upwards to where words
become form in leaf
and blossom unfolding
in air with open mouths –
a language that takes your breath
and fills you full as if all love
was held gorged, cupped
in a pendent spasm
and to move would make
you burst and fill
the air with pollen.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2022
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