When I see the trees,
when I see the woods,
I imagine I get to lay over the trees.

I’m part of their leaves, I’m a pine cone,
and I let myself be swang by the wind,
I smell and breathe the salt and fish from the air.

I just move smoothly side to side,
I’m being coined by the wind like a baby inside trees’ arms.

I imagine I get swallowed up by the woods,
my veins become tree roots,
my palm lines mark the lines on the salty rock, the paths of the river watched from upside down.

I’m not myself anymore,
If you want to find me I’m being washed by the inlet,
fish swim up through my chest,
seagulls stroke my needle hair.