Arboreal Remembrance

I remember discussion that;

the differential betwixt polar cold

and the rest of us,

our weathered days,

is sliding to diffusion.

Thus we rest and stop.

---

I hold not back, recollection,

of a handheld rock,

crushing selected petal, leaf and stem.

To bleed, our beautiful vision.

Imprinted on cotton,

clootie ready triangles.

---

My ear turned, 

around and above the choral troupe

and she whispered, that's a mouse.

I concurred with 

a knowing smile,

enlightened, for her and me.