Fresh Ink 2022
Lovely....Lastly We love trees for their many changeling skins— Petal profusions explode star-like only to shed loose in wonder silks, budding into green-winged shade, later f a l l i n g in paper-pressed jewels, raising limbs ultimate and b a r e as song to the sky— So why can’t I love myself for all these myriad mortal changes, too? We can’t love ~*~ the same thing in ourselves— how the blue hours shrivel, strip and wither all we are d o w n to the root. But nobody faults a tree for a life of beauty bound by time— changes come for every lovely . . . lastly one. 112
