The trees in time <br />have something else to do <br />besides their treeing. What is it. <br />I'm a starving to death <br />man myself, and thirsty, thirsty <br />by their fountains but I cannot drink <br />their mud and sunlight to be whole. <br />I do not understand these presences <br />that drink for months <br />in the dirt, eat light, <br />and then fast dry in the cold. <br />They stand it out somehow, <br />and how, the Botanists will tell me. <br />It is the "something else" that bothers <br />me, so I often go back to the forests.<br /><br />Alan Dugan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-looking-for-models/
