Arboretum

An  arboreal  calm 

Has  descended  upon  my  daze 

So that,  now,  when  I  sway,  I  do  it  in  place, 

And  when  I  heave,  I  creak  in  a  deep  staccato, 

And  when  I  shed,  I  can  read  limerence 

into                                   the 

s c a t t e r 

And I

Can see

The future

Yellowing

All around me,

As I feed myself

On myself - growing more rings and

More wind-blown fruit, scrunching up the black earth

By the foot-ful and reaching up with splayed fingers for a shedding sky,

Just to taste your breath travelled from a mere branch-and-a-half away to me.