Warm Breeze, Mid-Afternoon in Mid-Winter
At the walnut tree’s highest reach
the day’s breeze sets twigs and thin branches
tense like frantic lost messages, last waves goodbye
but the slur slows through the random knots
and twists of the limb structure and’s spread asunder
further in by the outward-reaching limbs and widening
resolve of main branches to the absolute breaking
of leftover negative space: down where I am, humming
a tune I heard my beloved sing and will not forget,
just my voice in the quiet, here at the trunk where all is still.
Translations from the English 
Beautiful, Jeff. And those last two lines take my breath away.
Thanks L.
I definitely agree! Jeff is on his game with this breathtaking offering!
Ron
Thanks Ron!
Oh, that leftover negative space! Where I seem to dwell…
I see nothing but positive space over at the edge, RO.
Amazing, the refuge this poem creates; think I’ll come back to this poem until the warm breezes start to linger.
We are fortunate when we can find this space.
I’m sharing this on Facebook so the Ithaca crowd can read it, too.
Thanks Chris!
Amazing. Thanks, Jeff.
Thank you, AK.
Just saying, JS.
Very beautiful! This is strangely similar to a poem I wrote recently.. Completely different but much the same. Would you mind reading “Upon Waking” on my blog and let me know what you think? I would appreciate it!
I sure will!
Thank you much😊
Yeah, both have some kind of recognition of the shape of trees, how they negotiate stress and frame and hold things…or as you write in your poem, “wrapping me up / but never holding me” … very different as you say, but taking root in the same neck of the woods…
My poem is confusing isn’t it? Rereading and trying to be objective to my own writing is difficult. The sphere of light stuff..made it confusing? If and when you have time.
Yes! Same neck of the woods.