MAPLE

Sweet ladies in green, whispering secrets, flirting with birds, drawing sugar from the sky.

Bold ladies in scarlet, throwing their favors profligate to the winds, the soils, the streets.

Skeletons of ladies, cracking their knuckles in the night.

Generous ladies– oh how generous!– filling our mouths with blood made of light.

You see what is there: the dying trees. What can the sun do? The wind?

Learn to worship dirt, to worship water. Under your feet is every thing you need.