I awoke feeling before my hearing caught up…
a crack, an ache, a cold naked moment.
Zubzero on a Persimmon branch.
Then the moan, like movement of surface and depth
meeting to survive
I felt this. Not the cold, there in my bedroom, safe behind double paned windows, safe under down, safe over heated bedding.
I felt what the tree was feeling.
I felt the brittle truth of sap so deep within and waiting that the external had to trust in a hope.