Which part of the tree I was, if I thought I was a tree
the root, the bud (a modified leaf) the chloroplast
the stamen of the flower. I get it — if I can imagine part of it
I can imagine all of it — I might as well be the tip of the branch
Seeking the sun, as the place the two branches dissect, each seeking
its Own, or maybe the whole pattern, what’s wrong, Mr. Deep?
He was gone. I think I disappointed him. I think he wanted me to say
That I was both the thought that I was part of the tree, and also
the thought I was the whole thing? Maybe?
These days I disappoint everybody.