Days have passed me in this green grove
where time has stopped
(or never started)
surely someone once sacrificed something for someone
or is that just the green-man myth?
perpetuated by some guy in Glastonbury
bored stiff and wearing hemp
hoping the crystals he buys mean something
because we all want to mean something
like me here
hiding under chrolophyll leaves
like some forest creature I have no end
words we use for trees?
scientific and bland
or insanely romantic
did you know mistletoe was a parasite?
says a lot about our first kiss, I think.
cry my eyes out to a birch
weep to a willow
croak at an oak
don’t think they care
I’m taking my nature worship elsewhere
leaves stick to me
brambles cut my ankles
forest therapy or