Pulplit

 

Deep in the woods there are spaces surprisingly lively and light, nestled between the bases of big old trees and rocks that beckon, come sit a while and listen to our tales; these old mountain stones hold them stored deep in their green and red veined faces, once in a while they share them to the drumming of woodpecker’s beak drilling deep in the woods.

Deep in the woods it’s easy walking in springtime when the forest floor is free of fern and cohosh, the canopy above as yet unformed by leaves still in the teeniest of unfurling stages.

Deep in the woods there are surprising conversations taking place in nestled spaces, where rocks and trees gesture, welcome.

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smilacina and solomon

i won’t play you false

this is not solomons seal,

though the ripened ruby berries taste deliciously maple

this is not solomons seal:

it’s a pretender

polygonatum:

davids harps’ blossoms dangle,

though the elegant berries have blue blood they’re toxic

solomons seal marks the roots

tonic medicine

eclipse

this is where i go to play when the tidal wave is high

when sprites and fairies wander under parasols of lace

leprechauns raise up their horns blowing rainbows to arc the sky

we stomp in red, we twirl in blue, pokeberry stains my face

 

when sprites and fairies wander under parasols of lace

then mists come kiss the drops that cling to breezes with a sigh

we stomp in red, we twirl in blue, pokeberry stains my face

tiny fingers deftly weave my braids with dew they ply

 

leprechauns raise up their horns blowing rainbows to arc the sky

then mists come kiss the drops that cling to breezes with a sigh

tiny fingers deftly weave my braids with dew they ply

this is where i go to play when the tidal wave is high

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