Taos Trees

written By

You drove, so I tried to describe them, witches

dancing, opening their arms

to the mountains, Sangre de Cristo.

These trees have their own mission.

Their bark is black and each limb

has its own life to live. That’s what I said.

You said ok, poet,

they might be bigtooth maples

Rio Grande cottonwoods

or could be salix willows–invasive,

destructive. It doesn’t matter

what we call them.

The altitude has made my head fluffy,

and I think they have no name

except a secret kept by sage and cactus,

lit up late in the day, reaching

out to the earth, unnaming us.

 

  • Sara Eddy’s full-length poetry collection, Ordinary Fissures, was released by Kelsay Books in May 2024. She is also the author of two chapbooks (Tell the Bees, A3 Press, 2019, and Full Mouth, Finishing Line Press, 2020), and her poems have appeared in many online and print journals, including Threepenny Review, Raleigh Review, Sky Island, and Baltimore Review, among others. She lives in Amherst, Massachusetts, in a house built by Emily Dickinson’s cousin.

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