OAK, MOSS, JEKYLL ISLAND

Live Oak, emphasis on the Live,

hundreds of years older than me,

bolder than me, demystifying history

through skin and bark.  So, what am I

at 70?--an eager pup, wired

to write.  So, what are you, old stoic?

gorilla of silence--grandeur

noblisse'd to guard the silence.

Ghosted in moss, you are perennial

Christmas, garlanded in gauze

by airy, deep-breathing conquistadors

who came to take, and stayed to give

their gray-on-gray, until eyes

surprised by bright green vines,

find, like me, homing space

in a provident place. How I love

this coast, this barrier island,

this weathered retreat

of the millionaire's boast!  Yet, oaks,

unimpressed, stretch beyond

miniscule balconies, where sitting,

I have a life to seize, a day

unwritten.

                 for Ginny