
Nowhere near the map we stop so Bob can piss.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry - Words: 160 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 11-06-10 - Status: Complete - id: 2862463
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Giant Arborvitae, Smokey Point, WA
Nowhere near the map, we stop so Bob can piss
and smoke somewhere north of Smokey Point,
nearly half way up to Darrington
I need neither, yet gravitate to the historical
monument called 'Giant Arborvitae'
I ask how to say it: Arrh-bor-vi-tae, Latin,
meaning ornamental evergreen tree native
to North America and Asia, producing scaly bark.
This one is twenty feet wide, once upon a time
two-hundred feet tall, that is, before a farmer
cleared it from his land with hungry flames,
bark is pitch black, curvaceous, graffiti scrawled,
modern hieroglyphics of so-and-so loves whoever,
or 'I' was here.
I walk inside it, look up, feel loose, yet centered.
It was well over a thousand years old, touched
by a million hands in more than enough centuries.
I think that this is proof of the one continent theory of
pre-evolution.
Bob says: you ready?
I leave it behind.
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