(Poet’s note: I’m not sure why I was thinking of the giant trees in our front yard — maybe it is the dangling branches that have me worried. But, in the spring, our neighbor comes and taps them, and then we make syrup. It had me wondering from the tree’s perspective. So, a Haiku for you.)

In spring, when trees cry,
we collect tears as sweetness:
dripping on our tongue

Listen to the podcast poem.

Peace (in the flow),
Kevin