On Woods Stopping Snowy On An Evening By

of tree conversations
I have had
there were many
truncated with
alone beingness
as we comprehend
ourselves kin
I, the walking tree
and they, hungry
deep in the unmoving earth
have greenly marveled
of my branches pliable
and bark of stretching
while in the wintering
stillness of hours
we solemn stood
at the staring sky