by S.E. Page

I need to watch trees like air in my mouth,
The long green gulp, tender bow and breath,
Lilt of leaf on winding edge—swell into me.

I need to watch trees that walk only in dark of dirt,
Rooted in place like a finger always pointing
Godward, skyward—pull my eye-light higher!

I need to watch trees to learn to stay just alive
Even winter bare or bleeding sap, or falling into
Splinters—teach me trade of tears for seed.


S. E. Page is a poet and YA writer represented by literary agent Natalie Lakosil. As a child she dearly wished her first initial stood for something adventurous and dashing like Seraphina or Sapphira, but she has grown comfortable with being a Sarah. You can find out more about her stories at iffymagic.com.


Photo: “tree of life” by eric lynch