Hamadryads

 
so then
he started to think
about the way
that she pored over
and whispered to him:

...I want you to touch
my exposed nerve...

and the avenues
of his blood
were immediately
in slow traffic
everything dilated
in his geography
to the simple sound
of her voice among the leaves:

...I want you to touch
my exposed nerve...

the sound of her voice
straightened all
the trunks of the forest
brought the song to life
of all the flowers
sweetness in full bloom

and the wind
and the silence of the wind
in every tendon of the body
taut and tense

...I want you to touch
my exposed nerve...

her voice woke up
the divine within him
moved the blood and
turned it into gold.


PAR