FIR TREE

Once I smelled in it

the fullness of iron green

and was gripped and swept

into a road of breaths

and shuffling dark green.

The deep North in an instantaneous gust.

Now that smell is faint,

like childhood, only a memory.

 

But all the same I keep

breathing it

sensing I am treasuring

the few drops I can gather

from the forest sap

in my cupped hands.

More than enough

on the way to the border.