by Emily Wall
If you were a cedar
you you would be waiting for rain to fall
or fall harder, relaxing your ten thousand needles.
If you were a handful of moss
you you would be waiting for the light so you could
climb further up this rich, fallen log.
If you were a blue mussel
you you would be waiting for the tide to rise
to open your lips, to sip.
What a world this is.
you Close your eyes and inhale. Eat a little
of this air. Let it fill your belly. Let the taste of this place
always always rest on your tongue.