Catkin by Sarah James

Kitten-tail spikes write their script
on thin air. Invisible traces on soft winds
call from branch to branch, tree
to tree: catkin, catkin, catkin.

Underground, roots reach out.
Rain, sun and soil’s earthy whisperings
urge spring, summer, fall,
then winter: catkin, catkin, catkin.

Recite the name as a seed of knowledge
that will grow willow-strong,
spreading leaves, pollen and more seeds
of new catkin, catkin, catkin.

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