Rings, counting, and just how long has this been here?
Feckless dawn, scent of tar, crushed horizons
A noon sun arrives in no particular sky at no particular time
Shimmering greens, scent of pine—
And all these dusty needles
Another Day On Earth
Poem and Image by Rob Goldstein (c) 2016
I am In a frenzy but
when I find the tree.
I peel back the bark
and drink its hot blood.
When I see the
tree is dead
I return to
(c) Rob Goldstein 2015-2017 All Rights reserved