James Vincent McMorrow’s Follow You Down to the Red Oak Tree is the most beautiful song to hear as the darkness falls early. Looking out my window, I see the bare branches as black lines against the twinkling lights from the city below. I wonder where all the green has disappeared to but in this moment I don’t miss it. My maladjusted time-change body relishes the time to stay quiet and very still and connect with the special kind of energy winter brings.
Missed Connections in Little Rock
Here is a poem:
Start with a strand of twine.
Imagine the two strings
twisted together. There are two points connected
the beginning and the end.
Now it’s a vein running between two bodies
through an arm, or at the hip. This is a thought
moving as fluid, drifting freely.
By sharing blood, could the mind
suddenly synch with another and feel
the same thought?
This new idea, covered in native trees, tall reaching trees,
growing for years without notice,
is touching heaven rooted
in hell. Limbs connecting all oceans, the waves
rustling the foliage. The woodpeckers
nest on our earlobes. The bark of my body
has enough freckles for both of us.