Cheeks like wooded lawns

The jagged edges of your palms


Make me believe in


The rough sketches

coming to life

Spewing granite chunks

which fall lyrically

into my ears

(rocks in the ol’ noggin)

Standing atop

Lithe mountains

You doth bestride the world

No, not like a colossus

(sorry Bill)

no colossus would ever be as you are

A redwood among sprouts