My friend tree I sawed you down but I must attend an older friend the sun
Lorine Niedecker - 1903-1970
I rose from marsh mud
I rose from marsh mud, algae, equisetum, willows, sweet green, noisy birds and frogs to see her wed in the rich rich silence of the church, the little white slave-girl in her diamond fronds. In aisle and arch the satin secret collects. United for life to serve silver. Possessed.