THE FOREST

I saw a forest
protruding through a morning’s fog,
the tops rising as isles on an alabaster sea,
obsessed to learn their every detail,
of limb and bark and roots,
until I could fathom their presence,
understand what that white sheet kept secret.

Oh I groped in that blindness,
diligently discovering every hidden facet,
exhausted, lying down on the ground,
when my nostrils caught the scent of pine
and suddenly I realized
what kind of tree I had touched.