Wednesday Poem

Trees are People and the People are Trees

And there in the crowded commons
three hundred striding people,
gesturing, eating the air,
halted around us, suddenly quiet.
They sprouted leaves and cones,
they wore strange bark for clothing,
and gently lifted their arms.

by John Haines
from The Owl in the Mask of the Dreamer

Graywolf Press, 1993