Tree-Climber

Square hands with square nails
all corners and calluses wrap around
limb and grip, blunt fingers finding hold
in crevices. Steady feet with toes curled
into bark, rough heels find traction on
knotty wood. You climb with the
calculated abandon of one who’s
done this a thousand times. The angles
have imprinted themselves on your mind,
the ratio of diameter and your weight.
Your body is compact like bundled strength,
and somehow, balance is an afterthought.
You’ve made peace with gravity, and while
I tremble with the leaves, you know
that the earth is solid below, and the sky is
endless above, and that’s all that matters.


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