Homesick
In my chest I long for stately old trees.
Ancient Doug firs enduring on the coast.
Atlean boughs holding heaven’s fury
cloudbursts, showers, pouring drops—tempests hosts
steadfast, vigilant, enduring guideposts
faithful watchers, reposing sentinels.
I would sit underneath content, engrossed.
My distance from you is lamentable.
A few are standing after centuries.
Others taken—sawed, hacked, cutdown, and poached.
Humans have perched high in your canopy
using their bodies, staging a revolt
desperate to stop any who would encroach.
But their positions are untenable.
I fear when I return you’ll all be ghosts.
My distance from you is lamentable.
I can’t comprehend why some will not see
your presence is a vital cornerstone
upon which rests our whole ecology.
But I’d luxuriate on our seacoast
under your cool furry evergreen cloak
breathing the salty breeze so plentiful
wandering among you on hills and slopes.
My distance from you is lamentable.
I’ll be there soon from this faraway post.
My anticipation is edible.
To you, my words and daydreams I devote.
My distance from you is lamentable.