Join us with photographer Kellē Sauer, who’s prompting us at Poetic Earth Month, to see what the tree sees—in poems and/or photos.
Once you find your photo or your poem, post it on Instagram, on your blog, or on a public Facebook post, and please share the link with us in the comment box below.
Be sure to post your submission by Friday, April 26. Kellē will be collecting a few favorites to feature next month!
Latest posts by tspoetry (see all)
- April Photo ‘n Poem Prompt—What the Tree Sees - April 8, 2019
- Follow Your Wonder—Writing Workshop - March 29, 2019
- Dress Up for Twirl—Or Dress Twirl Up! - February 6, 2019
Glynn says
I’m spending the month poetically at the Shaw Nature Reserve in Franklin County, Missouri, about 40 miles west of St. Louis. It is a special place. My poem for the prompt, “What the tree sees,” is here: https://faithfictionfriends.blogspot.com/2019/04/what-tree-sees.html
Kelly Sauer says
Glynn, I caught this over on Facebook last week – love this. Thank you so much for being here!
JoyAnne O'Donnell says
Tree’s Dance
The tree’s fill us with angels breath
coolness carries us free
into the magical forest
of flowers and soil
to dance in the spring
every moment in April
and May
a array of golden curtains
sparkles the sun’s dance.
Kelly Sauer says
Your leaves must be back… I love that sense of weightlessness you’ve created here. Your “array of golden curtains” could describe the draping boughs of my eucalyptus tree in the morning light… So vivid!
Richard Maxson says
Here is a photograph I took in the Jay B. Starkey Wilderness in central Florida on Pinterest, the only public site I use now. https://www.pinterest.com/pin/323274079500542776/promote
Kelly Sauer says
Richard, this is incredible. The shimmering of these trees in the water is almost tangible. Thank you so much for being here!
Kelly Sauer says
In which my own prompt prompts me…
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10161835220780475&set=a.10152465989650475&type=3&theater
Isabelle G. Schlegel says
Thunderstorm
Draw
me into your
earthen roots,
ancient and divine
as the
rain, you take
your majestic time to
drink.
Dot the golden
fields of late,
your branches in
forever bloom-
so when you yawn
those lush faces
bask in passing
sun, hide in
passing clouds.
Your wrinkled features,
mossy rivets reflecting
drops of light-
they count the
memories, in your
countless rings. To think
They will all be
burnt beyond
natural restoration-
a cruel simplicity
that steals its wisdom
with a single
lightning bolt.