What Is It With Dark Trees

Well, they’re likewise upright,

That’s one thing. They were home,

Once upon a time, too,

Long before any once

Upon a time was coined.

The body might recall,

Somehow, but it’s doubtful.

They obscure lines of sight,

So maybe that’s haunting

Or confounding at least. . . .

The swoosh and silence of

The trees, the fucking trees.

Or there’s no good reason.

You like no good reason.