dappled torso
where the smooth flesh emerges from the bark’s
rough scales.
Its branches drop on the ground their curled sheets of
old skin,
and where they were
the secret greeny-white flesh shines.
- excerpted from Walt Whitman Wrestling Naked With the Young Trees
Donald Platt, The Virginia Quarterly Review, Winter 2003
winter tree
© Jeff Kopito
2 comments
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February 10, 2013 at 8:53 am
Liliana Holtzman
No one could say it better …
February 10, 2013 at 9:05 am
lazarusdodge
It’s a beautiful poem… – J.