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Planted here as we are, see how we want
to bow and sway with the motion of earth
in sky. Feel how desire vibrates within us
as our branches fan out, promise entanglements,
rarely touch. Here, our sweet rustlings. If only
we could know how twisted up our roots
are, we might make vast shelter together—cooler
places, verdant spaces, more sustaining air.
But we are strange trees, reluctant in this
forest—we oak and ash, we pine—
the same the same, not different. All of us
reach toward star and cloud, all of us want
our share of light, just enough rainfall.
“The Grove” by Michael Kleber-Diggs, from Worldly Things. Copyright © 2021 by Michael Kleber-Diggs. Reprinted with the permission of The Permissions Company LLC on behalf of Milkweed Editions, milkweed.org .
Also published in The Wonder of Small Things: Poems of Peace and Renewal, edited by James Crews (Storey Publishing, 2023).

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This is one I want to keep and read again…and again.
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It’s a beautiful and profound meditation.
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I have loved every poem Michael K-D that I have read, and this one is no exception. I can **hear$$ and love all of its intonations. I loved, in particular:
But we are strange trees, reluctant in this
forest—we oak and ash, we pine—
the same the same, not different.
Wow. And bravo!
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Yes, Michael’s poems are a new discovery for me, and I’m loving them.
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