Menir

Stay with me now.
Are you sitting?
Your comfort isn’t really of any odds to me.
Have you not seen me?
My pelvis acts as
the fulcrum on this menhir
I
Sit upon.
I’ll hold my court while you grasp your tongues.
I’m sat fully in front of the unborn children in the trees.
Their whispering of these pines
is payback for my time with the hunt
in the search for some such thing
as I never knew could be found.
Look around this land—
and I want this to land with you—
the eyes will have it every which way but loose.
It’s up to you to
look in them, watch for the swell of my pupils.
Watch out behind you;
these trees grow through us all.
Questions, you must have questions…!
I’m sorry, I’m stopping you here.