trees

Idiolalia Poetry Collection Now Available!

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Always,
MKG

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Trees, UK

England’s predominant tree seems to be ancient,
lone, and singlularly knotted, with boils and
rough bark, straight and tall and massive, its
numerous small scrabbly branches clutching its
surrounds covetously; these trees hide much
and forget little.

Scotland’s predominant tree strikes one
as being various forms of straight, slim, tall,
and proud, both youthful and old, adorned by moss
or shivering leaves against a silver trunk, backed
by a whisper of complex color winding its way
through their masses over mountains.

Ireland’s predominant tree is a single, slight woman
perpetually facing a strong wind, hair blown back as
branches and moss, sorrowfully skeletal and delicate, one dot
in a wide green land– yet still standing, consenting
to be permanently shaped by constant, violent weather,
she endures because she has
no other choice.

c. Mary Kathryn Gough
May 2006; edit fri 17 feb 5.03 pm

*i had not travelled to wales at the time i wrote this. the welsh tree might be a colorful deciduous. if i decide, i’ll amend the poem.

language ii

the trees are speaking a new language today. a tongue i’ve never heard.
it’s white and brilliant, sparkling in the wind with infectious energy;
a million tiny bolts of lightning,
or anti-
matter and matter
colliding, disappearing and creating light that
penetrates the soul;
it’s a klicking akin to the language of dolphins,
neither as supple nor as dry as i’m used to hearing from these
swaying branches and fluttering leaves;
they’re coated with ice, fresh water
like drops of honey frozen still and
clear upon the slick blackened limbs,
marbles webbed in twiggy fingers like
jeweled ornaments.

c. Mary Kathryn Gough
Feb 2003 /edit: April 2004

Dance

The wild tossing
in the trees above me can be nothing but
an ancient dance of pure joy; lady Wind is
rushing through the scene, darting this way and
that, invisible to everyone. But my heart
joins in her feral laughter.

She is slim, kinetic, pale, and graceful: breath-
taking. Long, dark tresses flow as if floating in
water. Streaking with lighteningly quicksilver
movements, her bright, obsidian eyes glint out
from between-places, their volcanic treasure
somehow intensely cool and polished
like stars. An erratic comet weaving wildly
through the trees, she transforms the fields into
a blue and silver waving ocean.

All the way home, a wild, cleansing Wind
rushes coldly through my soul,
laughing for sheer joy.

c. Mary Kathryn Gough 3/29/03
edit: Mon December 5th, 2011 8.23pm wales

conservation of matter / energy

woke this morning, lifted salty
eyes to a small window frosted with chill.

condensed upon the pane: night’s dew
from my cheeks and shining eyes, transformed.

outside, dark-needled giants bow, scrape
Earth, weighed down with the
weight of my
heart;
white as snow.

somewhere, a cardinal wreaks havoc.

 

c. Mary Kathryn Gough
11/9/05 11.53 am oregon cabin
(abt 11/7/05, unexpected snow)
small edit: feb 17 2010 1.44 pm london

.:snow on tree trunks:.

light laces, sharply
curving– splits,
forks
through dark trees lancing
upward, lightning-like
into inky blackness,
numerical arms branching,
breaking earth
Open and
arcing out into

Air.

soft vibrations in limb
and forest floor raise the stately
head of a stag: sudden

Awareness.

c. Mary Kathryn Gough
2/22/05 4.06 am
edit: 9/12/05 1.44 pm
edit: feb 17 2010 12.59 pm london