Don’t Leaf

a sonnet by Dan Standing

“No Trespassing.” This dumb sign won’t stop me.
Lovely garden, I must have a flower.
I stop when I see a face – on a tree.
This place must have a magical power.

I see the bloom, and place foot on wet moss.
Take two strides and my bare feet are soon stuck.
Try to step but my attempts are at loss,
I see my toes growing into the muck.

Cold roots stretch; hold me in this cursed place,
Wood claims my breasts, sap replaces tears…blood.
Leaves sprout from hands and hair; they frame my face.
Bark encases form, now growing in mud.

Silently I stare at the mocking rose,
My trunk forever holds my greedy pose.