Drinking. Always, slowly,
A thousand thousand days of the cycles of the earth
Distilled to sweetness, running in my veins like golden blood
Always slowly drinking
Around my roots the mulch quivers with small scraps of life
As I draw on the deep mustiness of the earth’s secrets
Drinking always. Slowly.
I must be growing old… Earth and air and water…
they do not taste the same
as they did…
I wanted to try to capture something of the slowness of a tree’s existence, and its intimate relationship with its environment.