These Are The Trees Going On Without Us
There is a migration, and rocks
are crushed, the crust
moved, plowed through by woods,
the gentle stealth of fibers.
…there, amidst trunks and bluffs
that move slow, the drift of mass
of mountains, even;
treed mountains:
a march of the mulch and maddened.
Book Recommendations and Reviews
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** OFFICIAL Site of Artist Ray Ferrer **
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