Beech Tree

Air empty of all but light
the beech trunk reached
across my path

Cool bark blue/grey
rippling still
as if muscles were spelled to sleep

And on the curve stretching under the sky
beneath the green canopy
of rain laden leaves
moss spread a rich thick patch
and from it as a sodden sponge releases
drips
dark runnels slipped
starkly beautiful
crisscrossing the verdigris crusting
of lichen tattoos
made a map of caresses
on the rough skin of the swelling bole
and hollows of the plunging roots