river valley trees

{river valley trees on the running trail to hawrelak}

on the promontory the old tree
unravels with sticky sap trails
of trailing memory, floating like
aspen fuzz, days that creak with uncertainty

rolling past summer thunderstorms
lightning-struck branches reaching
beyond his hospital windows &
tired concrete

rain aches his bones hollowed
ivory pelicans black-tipped wings receding
over the silt-swollen river,
the crumbling rust of their banks

he watches her running in the tunnels
of the woods below,
foxtails silver ghosts brushing ankles,
remembering what the body is meant for

as she plunges down the riverside
gravelly footsteps shedding their
small avalanche trails rushing behind her,
ochred stain blood of rock on her shoes

(do you remember the taste of dust & salt
trickling down your face, slow green flow
& the air thick with pollen & light?)

on the promontory the old tree
waits & he sees her legs’ blue blur,
approach of thunder rustling up,
echoing in decaying cambium

(do you remember how once too
your running legs could become
limbs of trees, the green leaves of her breath
rising falling, the lungs of earth)

but only the pain now, in the very marrow,
the lightning on the blue of his eyes –