By | 1 August 2017

water knocks
in waving columns
and capillaries constrict

bark cloven
and I trace
pain with my fingers

sugar feeds roots
and the fungal network

they vowel
in a language I’ll never access

this cloudy web – the mycelium
bark and soft hair
crackle of blooms

they decide…together
with their whispers and codes

transpiration clouds and slides
over the earth
and I touch the filigrees
the white threaded soil
where glaciers once trawled

I touch ice and wood and nutrients

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