A Solitary Tree

A Solitary Tree


He offered me a leaf like a hand with fingers.
I offered him a hand like a leaf with teeth.
He offered me a branch like an arm.
I offered him my arm like a branch.
He tipped his trunk towards me like a shoulder.
I tipped my shoulder to him, like a knotted trunk.
I could hear his sap quicken, beating like blood.
He could hear my blood slacken like rising sap.
I passed through him.
He passed through me.
I remained a solitary tree.
A solitary man.



I love this beautiful poem written by Romanian poet, Nichita Stanescu. It speaks to me. So simple, yet vivid and powerful. Read the lines out loud…the way the words roll off the tongue is part of the charm.

Take A Bow Original Watercolor
© Michelle Rummel

Unwords ~ Poetry by Nichita Stanescu

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