I can’t help but feel the presence of trees this time of year: when bare branches create seemingly new designs in the sky or crisscross blue shadows over the dirt and pavement. And of course, there are Christmas trees, trees covered with snow, trees chopped into firewood stacked and waiting or glowing red in the belly of a fire. Trees are what creates l…
© 2023 Tyler Mills, Brooklyn Poetry Studio
Substack is the home for great writing