two bittersweet nightshade, fifty clover, orchard grass, six ghosts, and four spirits

how many encircle you, apple tree, now
o’layers o’layers stack-side more,
the core of your trunk
counting rings of a cross section,
still-direction, to be so many things,
if you can see, how many are we?
togethered, aparted
I trust only you, hope-thing of healing
count us for true, one may say one
I am— alone, but no—
beings stand beside me
below us as well, so tell what you see
how many are we?
please tell me honestly, dear apple tree

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