Poem by Rachel Dacus
The soil surges with elusive tides.
By my apartment an oak dives
head first into a hidden sea
while bird chatter rattles the sky.
The oak sings to me when it pleases.
From its black flanks and branches
come disturbing lullabies
and simple songs of white breezes.
The oak's dismantling sighs
Roar below the city surface
from deep in evolutionary gloom
the depths where fire flowers
and magma pearls bloom.
Oak notes quake the planet
as continents cross its face.
The poles shift in a vast rhythm
of history being erased.
The oak hears beyond time
and dives for song, headlong.
On its tossing tail alight
generations of lives in flight.
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