my storyboard u thots
Tree let your arms fall
Raise them not sharply in supplication to the bright exhaled cloud
Your sap shall not rise again to the moon's pull. No more incline a deferential head to the wind's talk, or stir to the tickle of coursing rain
Your former shagginess shall not be wreathed with the delightful flight of birds nor shield nor cool the ardour of unheeding lovers from the monstrous sun
Tree let your naked arms fall to the radiant ball emanations shall not make pure again these polluted skies... for this is no ordinary sun
O tree in the shadowless mountains the white plains and the drab sea floor your end at last is written
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