Where does the flower make
a bed?
Where does the briar wind
and bend?
The ground into which their
roots extend;
Like interlocking fingers with
the grip of tenfold vices.
Into which air does the scythe-
winged Jar cry?
In whose hour does the Tawny,
Long-eared
and Barn owls
hoot, chit and call?
The time of the stars between
dusk and dawn;
When the one that is at its
Zenith at noon illuminates other realms
between rise and set.
What drifts and weaves unseen through
an emerald canopy?
And carries a spiderling into the realm
above the clouds?
The one that dances across the
Beaufort Scales;
From One,
to Twelve,
and back again.
What has clean, elegant limbs
in winter;
Gains clusters of flora in the
midst of spring?
Followed by green apparel in
Glorious Summer?
Apparel that makes some resemble an
earthbound cloud;
That turns to citrine, crimson or gold
in autumn?
Trees,
Trees,
Trees and more Trees.