Poem Hunter
Oak Tree
DS (May 17,1990 / Seattle, Wa)

Oak Tree

On hills
In forests
And countries of wheat and green
Lie fields
Scattered with seeds,
Only some that survive to create shade
In shapes all too unique
To wonder if it happened by chance
That oak trees,
Enduring thirst and solemnity

Accessing no tangible media
For expressing the beauty
Of souls
Only able to think
On hill tops in burnt sun
And light fires upon the beginning and end of day
Not time to read

Enabeling this beauty
Emerged through the form
Of bursting emotional
Branches forming
Art in honesty

No one seeing or believing
That trees have lived here
In consequence
Banished from proper forests
To peel in the sun
Enduring winters
Without snow and companions intertwined
In warmth of veinless beauty
With reality distracted by conventional love

Until loneliness of trees
Became known to unnoticed fields
Running with characters
Of Steinbeck’s image
Art as trees in deserts from afar
Cows shading
In cool havens
Not given but happened
by ensuspected masterpieces
in loneliness
wanting to communicate

until cows hearded away
leaves warmed wood
to cool in hatred
popping bones
as if snapping
through long darkness in rest
settling into the earth
of the hills
mixed to home twisting
bending life
unknown surprises fit it well

alone in darkness each tree
in cold holds onto a green
composed image
reaching out
in confused scurry
for any life
ready to touch
feeling or wanting
warmth at night
as two related souls
changed to create (masterpiece(s))
shared influence
on the history of trees and lives.

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