by Marie-Claire Bancquart
Latticed by birds and sky
the tree moves on our shadows.
The murmur of fabric
answers crushed grass.
A sweet apple grows
and the dream of clouds
is slower than water.
Our bodies will cover
a vein of earth.
Minus its make-up of hours life
takes its place once more in the order of plants.
Copyright ©:
Marie-Claire Bancquart
Last updated December 22, 2022