do even reams of woods ? black as steeply whispering trees
                                                  (in dreams they do)
they speak creeping boughs
over laughter 'neath them
the dirt between their toes
                                                                                                     The
                                                                                                             Very earth
                                                                                                              Is their laughing
                                                                                                     The  
                                                                                                              Birthed vegetation
                                                                                                              Swayed slightly
                                                                                                                                                       by the hand of wind
                                                                                                                                                       and night so hewed
                                                                                                                                                       by pins from out her
                                                                                                                                                       they sparkle savagely
                              i walk
                                            , the earth upholds,
                                                                                   i am contained by nothing




                                                                                   ;
                                                               .