Trees resound hollowly, secrets passed by leaf
echoing splinters through soft earth
twine-like roots entangled, entombed in the deep
woody overgrowth contrives
dimly plotting against man and bear
whispers chatter, needles and twigs with wind-like designs
bare clattering branches, bones of transmission
the brook and the birch,
the boulder and pine,
conspirators all,
allies in crime.
Preemptively seeking maligned machinations
tangling trippingly devious root, a loop for a boot
a steep crumbling trail, rutted from rain
a tumble a gasp a thump and a crack
and warm sticky fluid, life-giving solution
staining the boulder, droplets plinking the brook
but murderous trees have consciences too
the noble pine broke the fall, and it's sap sacrificed
the trees aim at ending, but save a man's life.
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- All poetry is supposed to be instructive but in an unnoticeable manner; it is supposed to make us aware of what it would be valuable to instruct ourselves in; we must deduce the lesson on our own, just as with life. -Goethe
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