• Kate Godin

Lovers

I lay with a lover in the forest today. He was a tall fallen tree, wrapped in moss the color of the first summer on earth. We lay facing each other, gazing. I ran my hand along his torso. I sunk my fingers into his deep green.


His fall had landed him

on a long, low rock.

Part of him lay straight

but something else happened

where he met stone. There,

he became sinuous,

snake-like, curving

with the hard contours.

The thing that impeded him

was an invitation to move

in a new way.

The stubborn obstacle

was the key

to another way to be Tree.


He didn’t fight the rock

but followed its lead,

and it gave him the jut of a hip,

and the dip of a waist,

and a rippling shoulder.

He became a lover, lounging,

awaiting the woman

who could hear

his simple appeal –

Lie down

and was willing

to sink onto the bed

of rust-velvet leaves.

He was waiting

for me.

 

Photo by Ron Lach

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