And there you were—

nothing of the ghost,
everything of flesh and bone,
sun and skin.

Every flaw I pinned to you
proving to lack permanence,

for there’s a redwood
standing in my yard this morning.
The mere sight of you was
a seedling—

And standing on the ground,
I didn’t feel the roots
clawing through the earth and ash,
didn’t feel the rain
on that calendar-less day.

But—
there you were,
kissing the clouds in my mind,
in the new morning sun.

-

And the feeling?

Devastation.

-

There will be no deforestation
of you in this lifetime.