A palm tree, a bit taller than a person:
thick brown-gray hair covers its
trunk, coarse as a horse's mane,
and bark grows in widely spaced
pieces that curve up and out
in baroque arcs. The trunk is
narrow at the hips, wide at
the chest--like a torch: and it
flames with green fronds.
Yes, I'm standing there,
rubbing palm hair between
my fingers, starring up,
smiling. This is a tree
on a mission to amuse
itself. And me.
hans ostrom 2021
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