Young Sycamore
I must tell you
this young tree
whose round and firm trunk
between the wet
pavement and the gutter
(where water
is trickling) rises
bodily
into the air with
one undulant
thrust half its height-
and then
dividing and waning
sending out
young branches on
all sides-
hung with cocoons
it thins
till nothing is left of it
but two
eccentric knotted
twigs
bending forward
hornlike at the top
Elisa's Spot 
Love the poem and the song…thanks for both.
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You are welcome! (and YOU have a very yummy voice and interesting poetry for your tongue to climb)
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Another “tree place”, Elisa! Thank you for sharing this…so lovely. Don’t know about you, but I’m going to become a tree one of these days. You too?
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ha, i only now manage to squeeze into my people outfit, and even then, i have dunlaps disease! ooo we have thunder and lightning! must run out and dance…
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Dance, Elisa, dance!!
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