for an anniversary
I have always loved wood, the smell of it, the grain under the hand, the sinew of living wood upright in its roots, the green it breathes to the world, the crazy salad of colors, blossom and leaf, and the eyes where branches were, knots and boles, the way as Mark said, men are trees, walking.
My whole heart is walking, love, to you, on this, our day of wood, the grain of us, the rings remembering, the way you will feel like time in my two hands when I touch you again.