dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: trees

Winter trees wait for the sunset
To plead the debt
Earth owes the sky-
Dark limbs stretch high.

Sharp branches poke the golden glow
The poor below
Wish, work, and weep
To coin and keep.

But frost sits where no gold can stay
The next cold day-
A silver peace
For winter’s lease.


there’s a disease in the trees
an evergreen tumbleweed

like a wart
on thin fingers

dark dream catcher 
of the breeze


Trees and tries

Leave a pile of the leafy dead

When the season comes around.

Brown sounds reach,

Crinkling with each slinky stretch,

Then settle like dust

Beneath so many shoes.


thread our

one strand of sun

through

cold metal clouds

that loop then

point needle tip

to ground.

soundlessly

pound

this lone

glowing yarn

with the thimble moon

until buried beneath

thick folds

of treetop green,

it winds around

a stump spool

for stumbling fools

to discover.


Riding in a locomotive,

Railway air submarine

At the bottom of the oxygen floor.

Smoky bubbles rise

To the top where they pop

Into white foamy clouds.

Barren tree branches

Stretch their seaweed limbs

Towards the mechanical intruder,

Barns and cars clustered

In colorful reefs

Leave riders gripping seat handles,

Wishing for nets to clutch

To capture brighter,

More fascinating worlds.


Sort and separate
The pine needles
Pricking the parts
Of you
That still feel.

Snap the spindly
Excuses before
You’re infected
By their hardening
Poison.

Sure, you stand tall
In your stubborn resolve,
But several wobbly
Rings in your solid core
Will be all that’s left

When someone cuts
You deep enough.


One winding tree branch,

Like a large solid snake,

Sits by the road,

Terrifying muddy tires

With its sharp, splintered,

Two-pronged tongue.

Separated forever,

Ripped from the family tree

By its rebellious breakaway

During a storm’s distraction,

It becomes as Nebuchadnezzar,

Eating grass and finding claws

To grip the earth.