Turning (draft)

Examine the tree-
a man stands
tall yet bending,

always bending
towards sky
to ground and all

his little leaves
trembling
like children

in such wind,
such wind whose
hands pull down

and ripping,
dancing, skipping
over hills... escape.

Look at stars-
a woman drinking
light, becoming

near morning,
a bird
whose eyes propose

to poppies
wildly
growing...

whose tongues
swallow
"brightness"

like shell
built around
the belly.

See the night-
dark, young
and knowing

the wings
of moth,
soft

sails
folded
under-

moving.