Friday, 24 of November of 2017

Tag » Tree

Dennis Fritzinger – Back Scratch Bears


bears bears bears bears
has a favorite tree
4845507820_5a7bf84eee_othey snuffled thru leaves, they climbed up the stairs
he likes
to scratch his back on.
they stuck up their muzzles and lifted their ears
late at night
when no one
to hear poems composed about some of their peers
is watching.
tree doesn’t mind.
there were spirit and teddy bears lurking about
tree is
a little bit honored
polar and panda and sun bears no doubt
the king of the forest
has chosen it
dream bears and cream bears mothers and cubs
for a back scratch.
all this is recorded
and thirsty bears finishing off syllabubs
by the watchful eye
of the camera,
they fished and ate berries ate berries and fished
set to music
and broadcast
they haunted our minds till they got what they wished
on the internet,
where such things
a world in which humans and bears both reside
the way that we used to and that’s side by side
go griz!
you have millions
i know that i heard them as they left by the stairs
of fans now,
even if you don’t know it.
that’s bears bears bears bears

Christina Wulf – Great North Mountain, VA & Pine Mountain, KY

It has been a month or more since
the chestnut oak parted its lips
to taste my hand. Touch of palm
against wet mouth and the teeth entered me,
needle—hair–filament–fine. Light as arrow
feather they pierce skin, and then explode
I turned from the tree’s embrace
as fire lanced my hand, skin enflamed
with this sacred kiss: Creeping through my body
till I wondered if my breath would stop
bearing so much pain. So much delight
in receiving tongue of tree; in the bulb
of my thumb, still today the tracks are clear.
Skin bubbled back, miming the trace of lifeline.

A year ago, on another mountain slope
I laid my hand on cousin tree. This one
smooth of bark, no longer standing.
American chestnut bole, leaned against sandstone
cliffs, the peak of Appalachia’s forest heart.
The smooth giant, slick with rain, tricked my feet
and I fell, hand first, into her arms.
Mother chestnut, I wept against your fallen body
cradling my broken hand–tears for the axe
bite of blight that took you from me, left us
dying in each other’s arms.

My hand is inoculated now with spore and saliva,
blade and bruise. My blood has taken in the love
and grief that cloak our mountains–green forest
grows in my cambium tissues, forests’ destruction
stains my sapwood veins.

What work for these hands of mine, dipped in living

Christina Wulf
May-June 2005 Earth First!

Armed with Visions is an all volunteer non-commercial community website dedicated to distributing educational "compilations" in the field of Deep Ecology. This website may contain copyrighted material, the use of which has not always been specifically authorized by the copyright owner. We believe this constitutes a ‘fair use’ of any such copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. If you, as a member of our educational community wish to use copyrighted material from this site for purposes of your own that go beyond ‘fair use’, you must obtain permission from the copyright owner. If you, as copyright owner want your copyrighted material removed from this website you must contact us via our contact page.