TREE

I am a triangle of wood
and if the wind whisks me
everywhichway every bell

in my reach
shall sound

a bright
red
or yellow
sound.

I know someone
who lives in a tree:
waits all her days
to be touched

by the light dendrite
of a fat root's finger-
nail and so be crucified/

vindicated,

to top off a life of
squatting waiting touching and rarely being touched,
kissed only by breaths of the horniest breezes.