
naked branches
of the frangipani
bud with blossoms.

naked branches
of the frangipani
bud with blossoms.

lakeside leaves are
turning and dropping, but
no floaters remain.

bougainvillea &
gold trumpet grow together:
one tree, two personas.

in a city park,
muscular baobabs &
wiry strangler figs
provide residences
for the fierce squirrels.

twisted root piles
stretch across the walkway,
reaching like amoeba.


I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose busom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.


