The trees can't wait for the sun
they don't
They climb the exiled hills
and hug their slopes
The can hold their heads so high
there's no one to look
to see
if they're missing limbs
or faces
They don't wait for the world to descend
in concrete or its mirrors
Their roots move the earth
take it with them
They don't need a face to save
or lose on the way
They have roots that move
the earth around them.
May 7 09
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