I reached up, and ever up,
my palm skimming grey, morning green,
and a wraith of sandstorm-brown.
I climbed and saddled myself astride
the notch of two dividing, naked limbs,
my sap to the tree’s sap, my limbs locked around you,
my lips to your smooth, cool bark;
the scent, the sense of your leaves,
the bitterness of girls’ hair in the rain,
the taste of it on my tongue.
I knew how there was no right mind in love,
only being grafted against my will to the eucalyptus,
now less than half woman,
yet not quite all tree.
Comments
Awesome
I have to come back for second read but I caught the essence in this write and the image of it all says much. Good job Marie
Blessings
Mona
Thanks :)
Thanks, Mona.
M
Of course I had to
come read when I saw the title :) and I love the joining of the tree genus with the human one and the aroma's of the eucalypti are well known, so much so they put it into a liniment they call Goanna Oil lol which literally doesn't mean there is a goanna in it at all :P Marie this is just you with that soft girlish edge I love reading in your work.
Goanna Oil
I write a poem about sex and you talk about my 'soft girlish edge'? :D :D :D
'Goanna Oyl' - now there's a nice idea for a nom de plume.
Seriously, though, it's nice to have my soft girlish edges admired once in a while.
M
hello
This gives a whole new meaning to "tree hugger". I think the idea of love turning wooden is great............scribbler
Tree hugger
Indeed it does. I once wrote half a story about a woman who fell in love with a copper beech (the other half was written by Joanne Harris).
M
haha
Marie, your scottish sense of humor is showing :P
You think...
... I'm kidding?