by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Her reach finds
small openings
in the forest canopy
until the carpet
at the bottom brings
every kind of plant and fern to formation.
These are true families
that enjoy each other’s company–
some living at the top of hills,
other kinds in depressions–
trees that are dependent
on plants around them,
plants that only live by certain trees.
Step lightly.
Speak in whispers,
for there are babies sleeping
everywhere.
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