Is It Poetry
Red Wood Tree's
They're all different, but what really counts is the height.
The sensitivity of that first, second, some times third,
sweet moment of, it is like climbing up into soft, warm,
yet slippery, velvet cloud's.
Which sends crackles of electricity
from the bottom to the top of the giant red wood tree.
Up around the trunk and down again.
Often I will slip in to say hello and stop.
Just so I can feel the green leaves form around me,
and to give myself a moment to best decide how to proceed.
It is then climbing down, that I know, I'm doing the right thing.
Is It Poetry's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Red Wood Tree's by Is It Poetry )
Did you read them?
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
- Heather Burns
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)