“quietly the hard rock greens”

by David McLean

(Trakl)

the cold rock has grown green as maybe

with moss and memory,

full of several summers stored in it

like a generous battery;

and so the ancient trees

float over it homeless,

like climate and a conscience,

since the gods have left the forest

to time and trolls;

there are no faces present

in the grayness of sky and water,

just what we carry within us

to call love