STEAL THE TREE
Like a thief in the
night
the water rises to
steal the tree.
Slippery fingers
pulling and coaxing
now grabbing and
thrashing
now caressing and
kissing
but always furtive
always stealing.
Sleight of hand with
smoke and mirrors.
The water paints the
tree
to hide its origin
from prying eyes.
I have always held
the tree.
I have always known
the tree.
It was always mine.
The water lies.
I never wanted it,
never liked it
never needed or cared
for it
never desired it.
I never coveted its
hardened form
never thought to
steal the hidden sun
stored tightly within
its limbs.
The water lies.
It was never my plan
to drink
to sate, to glut upon
the locked energy.
I never schemed to
drain its life.
I thought only to
place a kiss
upon the boughs of
land’s lover
a token of my
affection.
The water lies.
