by Emily Wall

If you were a cedar
you you would be waiting for rain to fall
or fall harder, relaxing your ten thousand needles.

If you were a handful of moss
you you would be waiting for the light so you could
climb further up this rich, fallen log.

If you were a blue mussel
you you would be waiting for the tide to rise
to open your lips, to sip.

What a world this is.
you Close your eyes and inhale. Eat a little
of this air. Let it fill your belly. Let the taste of this place

always always rest on your tongue.

Emily Wall, poet, This Forest, This Beach, You, installation, 2013