Yellow leaves the size and shape of an eye
black lashes, yellow eyes shaped like leaves
trees on a ridge, an undulating line
sheltering a path of white stones.
Do trees have spirits?
This one with silver skin
holding out its brown arms,
green hands in the trembling wind?
Coffee, toffee and tobacco leaves
the wind whispering through
the trees ever pliable filters
holding an ageless silence.
And I think, my palm on bark,
why not, why not...
It almost feels like,
when you can't be anywhere else,
that part of you, the best part
is really here, dressed in a suit
of yellow leaves.