Poem: Impossible Sky

I am a tree that
is with leaves that reach
for a thousand yous.

Soften my bark, star,
so the breeze flows smoothly
as your flickering.

Honestly admit
that I will vainly despair
'til the next dusk,

eager to see you
beneath its dark blanket, clouds
dimly scattered,

and will stare from
here, a little place
where I reside.

10/2/08, 11:29 PM