Bitter the word. Bitter, meadow I am walking in.Bitter breeze filters through birch foliage.Each leaf flinches. Cherish me todayFor I am a vetch crisp & uncorrected.
I have too-white bark that peels from my core.I am leaving my bitter body, its sturdy V-shapes& nodding flourishes. I am curling like a fetusInto the non-birch world. Enough I have had
Of my paper-skinned nature. My thin, ever-springlike ensembleLeading you to love me for my fragility. Forget it.I turn & chafe. I misbeget the fruit of the other trees.Turdish shapes, all of you. A filament of sun widows me,
My head about to gasp, my crown flickers too green,I am waiting, waiting for night. When it comes, allMy glowing turrets will be unbidden but lit, settledIn their aura. The night will gentle me. My shine
Will make friends with you until dawn. Why? Just to make you ache, justTo canopy your gaze, to gash your advances. Opponent, do notTouch the skin before dusk. Don't touch meWithout the dark, for I am a bitter touch.
