Reading Poetry

Life builds itself up from dirt
roots dig down deep
with dark hands
into past centuries and past roots
assimilates darkness and their light

the earth gives of herself
the tree filters and discriminates:
In it she rises high to that deep blue
so deep, so rare

here is the three-hundred year old
bone. It slipped from a carcass,
dissolved into chaos
and is reordered in another
built anew again