The ice that piles near the shores
The bay that freezes, thaws
Gets blanketed with snow
Will freeze again
I want to talk about trees
And the way they calm me down
The texture of the branches
My fingertips in the grooves of the bark
(My friend asks me what sense is my superpower
and it’s touch, it’s touch, it touch)
We built a fort in a forest valley
For a weekend, and let the forest retake it
Is it because I’ve been never been lost in the woods
That the metaphor cuts so deep
Where can I go to get lost?
There’s a poem I still remember
That I wrote a decade ago
About a tree on a hill
And a force that wanted it to move
The wind, or a man
Or maybe it was me
In those lines
At a standstill with the tree
I hadn’t yet learned
That there were other paths
Then the one laid before my feet
With Love,
Natalie