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—

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

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

-

and the feeling?

devastation.

-

there will be no deforestation
of you in this lifetime.