Plank & Resin

Lana Bella

Looking out to the dirt road
still named after plank and
resin, you pitched with pale
motions of green cardamom,
chiseled through the ancient
grounds' undergrowth.

This quixotic extract rushed
of routine, of metaphors tied
in enough chartreuse to rise,
of pulses lisped about copper
water split into maw, you set
eyes on blue birch trees, and
checker-backed loons across
the march of winter.