OAKS

Like dreams
each one a genius universe of beauty
every twig and branch
just so.

Rid of the leafy clutter,
of their summery attire
they stand bare
against the eggshell sky
and the backdrop of hills
painted in brackeny flame
with the drover’s beacon Pines
standing sentinel above.

Each spidery silhouette
rises sturdily out of the ground:
an integral whole of animate perfection
down to the tiniest acorn sprig
and greatest bough,
leaning lightly over the air
as a ballerina poised, rooted
in dynamic precision and balance.