Caterpillar buds
climb the beeches. Yesterday they were bare, prayers of wind, windows of unwound limbs, schisms of sky. Today inch upward furred worms, pinched pitched bark scavengers scrambling to undo blue with scrabbling green: scene scented with chrysalis unbelief, relief brief butterfly leaf.
Thank you for restacking this poem @Ann Collins. I’m delighted it appeals! 🙂
Thomas, you were one of the first poets I discovered on Substack - I’m glad I did, love the poem.