Nymph of an oak slips from ring to ring,
dances from where the bark meets the air
to the central rings, which are the beginning
after the wild burst from acorn’s inspiration
and hold still the green joy and exuberance

Nymph is a changed nymph in each ring
where she lingers and does not so much
remember as recover, return to this ring’s
seasons, its spring and summer and fall,
winter snow and stillness and deep sleep

So many springs’ waking, so many red
buddings, so many tender new green
leafings out, so many leaves lifted up
to take in what the lordly sun spews out,
so many deep green leaves, sweet acorns

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