Tree Dreams

The distant hills are age-old forested in greenish black-

birds singing wind blowing at all points and one baby

inconsolably crying a dozen shades of green in the garden

leaves reaching to the open song-filled sky roses blown

and fading (beauty, too, in fading) and the garden needs

no consolation

                                I dreamed I was a hundred-rooted plant

deep-spreading in earth magnificent sidewalk-breaking

strength like next-door cherry fruiting bright red and blood-

red under cloud-bowed sky sheltering the blackbirds shading

the inconsolable