"madrona" poems
Today only their edges show.
A feather, a foot, a flash of orange,
stirring leaves left on the big madrona,
playing hide-and-seek,
suddenly exotic.
Ruth Solnit November 2020
Feb 3, 2021
Feb 3, 2021 at 2:25 PM UTC
You make promiscuous promises
to your aching body
tell her she’ll feast next week
if she lets you live to see the sea
you promise her ripe *******
sticky fruit
the dripping moments of honey
you tell her to ignore the tricks of his fingers
how they pull away
the tenders parts of her
you remind her she's as soft as the madrona tree
that she’s the most pungent smell of rosemary
the strength it takes for her
to live
shifts the alignments of the planets
causes disarray in each star sign
as she dips her toes
stretches her bones
he simply orbits
you remind her
she holds the resilience of each breathing forest
and though he makes his offerings
while looking for something sweeter
she is monumental in the way the world needs her.
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 10:51 PM UTC