Trees on the Wing

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No trespassing,
the sign says,
and the gate looks unfriendly,
though trees behind
beckon brightly on green hills
shadowing their arching arms
on velvet grass.
So will someone come,
I ask,
to arrest us?
snatch camera from our hands,
lock us up,
for shooting wildly
at the cows?
Or will they be amused
at people pointing long black things
at trees that look today
the same as yesterday,
and nothing is amiss,
cows graze the daily green,
birds come and go
on leafless boughs?
No trespassing,
the sign answers
keep out—
but the trees call,
put up their signs of spring
to keep those fenceposts
let wonderers


WomenCanDoIt Home | A Mother's Poems | Trees on the Wing | Island Songs |Reef Dance | Healing Poems | Image Galleries

Freedom Poems | Poems about poetry | Poems of the camera eye |Garden poems| Fairytale poems |
Goddess poems
| Circus poems

Cat Door, Place des Vosges
| Red Dress, Place Vendome | on the road poems

Yosemite poems |Ghost Ranch Companion

 © 2005, Lenore Horowitz