the empty tree

1.  some will call it dead.

the tree, an old birch peeling its bark is empty.

its roots ignore water. its birds are someplace else.

its lifeless form is good enough for the landscape painter

who sets-up from a distance and sees the tree as a meaningful

part of the nature before him. it’s good enough for the poet who

sees "life" in the history of the empty tree same as the Wampanoag

who learned their lessons from stone and the Sun.

at day's end, enlightenment has changed its cooperative attitude

and darkness has set upon the empty tree.

2.  the painter and the poet meet at the diner for coffee and sandwiches.

they sit side-by-side at the counter.

they're told the pastrami is lean.

it's not easy to resist lean pastrami.

as for the empty tree the Wampanoag would say it is waiting for their return.

but both pastrami sandwich eaters at the counter are done with it–– and

well, I guess I am, too.