"the tree line"

by del rosario henri

i do not take the time to say
each word, to take each word
and walk twenty miles with it.

to see my own face in the cracks of the text,
surrounded by branches, words thicket and words,

on branches they seem, against pale evening sun,
    sway be the breeze,
        serifs flicker and wave,

spaces share in between, living things if you look.
walk underneath, take your steps and forget.

the shadows that breathe
 the tree line,
    by line,
    by line,

 reflect
    sign 
    design,

as evening passes, pages turn, a glimpse of the
  between,    thin and invisible,    a between
                  in between,

the words of the day                   and the next,

is at once the else of the trees and the sky, and the
else of letter and eye. inches of world in between.

sharp    silhouettes   speak     wind      rustling,
  speak softer      peak   and the   rustling!

here, above the ears!

a city of words on living trees living forest, and
a path for my feet,
       smooth air touching palms,
                                     reading breath