Sap & Xylem
Raise the hands to the face
Lift off the mask
To reveal the tearstreaked visage
Hiding all these years
Bones anchor and pillar
But not our own skeleton:
Our dead underfoot
And the trees
Always the trees
Arboreal safehouse of our furred antecedentes
Towering over our deeds
Singing in leaf breeze
Rootclasp gripping earth
In cedar sway we know
In alder bough and bow
When the sawteeth come
Gnashing for our marrows
Entwined mycelial braids squeeze—
And say goodbye
Then lay still be beneath the Stihl
Who strides beneath the costume?
Daphne’s laurel growing inside like a child
And all the ligneous predecessors
In sap and xylem
Blood and vein
Palms smear tears
…And come away with splinters
Open the face to the leaf-god
Who meets the hands that meet the mask
Peel forth the covering—
Inside we are trees