Susan UttingSusan Utting 


The Innocence of Trees

They walked all night, as if they knew
where they were going, as if there were
an end to it. They followed the moon
that was going nowhere, and giving
nothing away.

There were trees:
a tunnel of pines that knew no difference,
night from day, winter, summer, here
or there. They meant no harm, the pines,
not a twig or sprig of harm among them.

They walked till day broke, then kept on -
a pair of dogged day-dreamers, following
the arc of the sun, one foot after the other
and side by side, as if there were
no vanishing point.

first published in "A Hatchery of Shadows" 2020
Poems About Plants, Brains and Imagination

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