Not Tree


We’re fooled.
The vine too.
By the nature of
This rusted
Arm slanting up
Through
Sunlight.

Not tree–
Old
Telephone
Infrastructure
Wrapped.
Forgotten.
Going native.

This post is from my poetry series for January, “What Details Know” — daily small stones and photos, as part of The River of Stones.

Read more small stones on Twitter at the #smallstone hashtag.

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