The Avon Echo

by Drew Paradise

lithe and papery is the tree that hides me in its thin white fingers clasping me like san fransisco water in a sieve and the sun is hot and the sun is loud but my birch tree he is quiet and while the sun still screams down through his fingers when i lie below him he covers me the same and on many fall days when the wind blows his red hair hither and thither making us shiver i still lie in his lithe fingers and let his red hair fall upon my face because i love him and i am warm again