(another tree)

-- and yet this tree
stands still
straight stemmed, limber

nods, and listens
breathes
the insect gossiping,
the small change-scented breeze
a warm October brings --

its leaves no less rejoicing green
for all their many fallings into gold,
their quiet dyings

Wind dropped or landscape planned
it greens the same
xylem and phloem  -- oh
it goes on growing
with that deepest green intending
bound up and flowing
every rootlet, leaf, and grooved stem
unbinding the heartdeep
the wordless hymn

storm splitted, blight bitten
scarred and pitted
it goes on growing

wormvisited its buds go on, imperfectly
unfolding
ceaseless its leaves their legion breathings
their numbered autumn goldings --

this tree, still
till it falls and dissolves
will green on -- going
on with its ceaseless little dyings
its beginnings
its beholding --