Concrete Poetry -- Tree

If you stood with your feet in the earth

Up to your ankles in grass

And your arms had leaves running over them

And every once in awhile one of your leafy fingers

Was nudged by a bird flying past,

If the skin that covers you from top to tip

Wasn’t skin at all, but bark

And you never moved your feet from their place

In the earth

But stood rooted in one spot come

Rain

Wind

Snow

Sleet

Thaw

Spring

Summer

Winter

Fall

Blight

Bug

Day

Dark

Then you would be me:

A tree.

Ms. Dorsey added the color.

Kuskin, Karla. 1972. Any Me I Want to Be. Harper & Row.