The Heartwood and Not the Bark
/Tell me of your layers,
the way you grow.
I know some years might be
too fresh
too thirsty
too tender
the heartwood and not the bark.
Who says that we must always
be peeling back layers
that the smooth
is better than the rough?
that each year is only a year
when some are eternities
and others are paper thin
over in a blink
and it is not all to do with seasons, climate change?
Love,
know that when you put
that ring upon me
it will not be the first one
that you have bound me with.
you are already at my core
the rest is width, and deep roots, and remembering.