This sweet orange fruit aloft
in an furled state of its leaves,
a shinny dark green above,
below pale green and hairy,
turning yellow in the Fall,
Speaking out, Oh Sassafras,
who is a neighboring herbaceous voice
resonating among the slender Long-leaf Pines:
She’s hiding within the Bottonland
in the shadows of blue berry vines
Her faint smile, aromatic as spicy tea
expelling the healing sorrow from
her roots through the root-bark.
across her breast, the shinny green leaves,
oval and mitten shapes
waving in the wind with wild-flower-whisper
luring bees, a humming bird,
along with a dancing Tiger Swallow.
The Water-Oak leaves,
a rusty brown, camel tan, coarse yellow,
host a jerky-waggle of a lizard,
moving from nostrils to tail-tip,
utter green and tailor stripped with neon blue
rips across the surface of crusty leaves, “Go with me.”