The wanderer’s gaze once again reaches
for taller things; there is sublimation to be
had, but all that comes is memory: a teacher
who, years ago, claimed that trees could
feel. The wanderer was once a student
and believed that meant absorbing whatever
air surrounds; he believed the old man
foolishly, but soon learned other things,
such as the fact that trees are not twisted
with nerve endings like humans are.
The wanderer knows that trees are beyond
us, different structures that can be imbued
but not totally held. However, the gaze still stretches,
becomes shadow among leaves and boughs.
Written for 100 Word Wednesday.