The Great trees Speak 

Sky will never wean us 

nor suns wane

nor tombs keep

nor our shagged selves

shout themselves

in language of your screech.

In the long talk of slake 

of rain come down rain 

we pearl in drench, we breathe.

Life schemed in droplets

day wrung in root  

time rung in rings. 

Homed in spangled fields

O’s of  pith greened

in canopy of tapestries 

we sing

we sing

we sing.