Like Trees, Walking

Like trees, walking - a poem

He spit in my eye
and I could see
people walking—
they looked like trees.

He spit in my eye
and then I knew
that some are grown
and some just grew.

He spit in my eye
and I could tell
that some are fallen
and some are felled.

He spit in my eye
and then I saw
that saplings rise
when forests fall.