encircling your rough, thick, red bark
i know why sky larks sing so early
and how to dance in moon light's wake
without effort all things spring to life:
how you chime your chordal grace
spirals up the red tree's face
as music spills o'er gardens, and fields
awake to witness the worn bark, it's song,
hesitating in the heat, before dark
when wishes buried decades ago
beneath the deep crimson redwood tree
come alive, with prayers parading as natural glee
Kate Lamberg
7/15/12
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