YOUR FOREST Your forest grows as green as love. Your ferns ride, simple near ground. Fern-shadowed moss still curls above stones that your glacier dappled down. Your night’s sadness is well-contained within the sap pushing the stem of plants that grow along the dark to root at morning.
Joy finds them, and oceans, lost because they are vast (like ruined roads left on the land) take your kind waters home each time that they, pushing up the sand, make tides with your evaporate rain. The ocean is at peace again. Far algae grows; the blue stays smooth; and in dim light, the beach is soothed. Your forest grows as green as love, your night’s sadness is well-contained,
and oceans, lost because they are vast,
, make tides with your evaporate rain.
©
Copyright, Annie Finch. |