It's just poetry, it won't bite

Betula Papyrifera


05.29.19 Posted in today's words by

Lee Woodman’s most recent poem to appear here was “Sorrow” (March 2019)

Betula Papyrifera
By Lee Woodman

I’ve never known the names of trees before,
whereas you, I commit to memory.

“White Lady of the Woods” for some,
in India, they call you “Burgha.”

Your slender twigs chase old spirits away,
inviting me to enter.

At my peril, I will nestle
near the myrrh of your arm,

Brushing the fragrance,
smoothing the oil of acer.

I’ll mingle my voice, join the rustling
of your leaves and

murmur susurrus,
“Come lie with me on mossy beds.”

The breeze carries pollen, resins keep our blood hot,
fallen needles beckon our embrace.

You are my magic spell, the graceful tree
I’ve learned to write on.



3 Responses to “Betula Papyrifera”

  1. H. Larew says:

    Trees are deserving of our every praise. Thanks for sharing this piece! HGL

  2. Ed Zahniser says:

    Ah! I have written poems and missives on the bark of the paper birch,
    two logs of which appear to hold up the mantel on our fieldstone fireplace in the mountain cabin my extended family has had in the
    Adirondack Mtns of upstate New York since 1946.

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