Selected Poems

The Fallen Tree

A fallen tree in the deep woods is as beautiful
as the living one by its side.
Stripped of limbs and the adornment of leaves
the yellow poplar lies there on its back 
or on its face, it’s all the same, looking up
or down into the starry depths
the ever changing light 
the ever changing earth. Like skin
the crusty bark has loosened and come off
splitting, falling away to reveal smooth bones
scarred by the secret embroidery
of burrowing worms and insects. 
Patches of green mold and furry mosses
have taken hold, covering the nakedness
of the body, as in sleep the mind is covered
with dreams, sprouting mushrooms
and odd shaped lichens which feed off it
allowing the body to soften and spill
into mulch and nutrients, letting go 
of everything except its beauty.

(published in Pegasus and Black & Rouge Review)