In bed, we keep combat boots on, scrape our shinsclimbing each other – which is to say: I dream I’ve dragged a treeinto bed with me. Bark against my back, rootspoking out from beneath the sheets like feet. Each hour,another season. It pushes cherry blossoms against my closed eyes,then just as soon burns red leaves like autumn.
Read the rest of the poem over at Connotation Press.