oakland, ca. —
spectral fogs crept in
then dissipated at the
honeyed, half-lidded
touch of sunlight
as we climbed higher
and taller
into the aging layers
of a redwood forest
the narrow paths zagged
through canvases of moss and
knobby, knuckled roots jutted
from the earth
like the trees had hands
that gripped so tight
the joints broke through
above all,
a patient
and reverent
hush.
as if to crack that quiet
clean through
i imagined my foot slipping
toppling off the earthen shelf
clawing my fingernails down to
the blood as i clung,
dislodged dirt spraying over me
like rain
with my heart a wild
trembling
frantic bird
against my ribcage
(as if i could shake
that stillness
with the deafening proof
of my own aliveness)
but as it was
we tread among
those wooded pillars in
an ancient silence, unyielding,
soft as trespassers
microcosmic 