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Marriage of True Woods
When the tree and I get married All the folks will say, How strange, Will they live with her folks the humans Or in his forest with all the leaves? And in the Fall will their children Drop dryly about their knees?
O green sap runs through my daughters veins, Her foliage is of scarlet hue. Her father is a vast cathedral of oak, Hair of vine and beard of moss. O I love him as no other, for our roots Run deep in strange genealogy.
Marianne Van House September 16, 1989
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