Glass: A Journal of Poetry Volume One Issue One       


Joseph Hutchison

Poplar

A week or more back, its stiff
branches spoke up: so many

hesitant jets of absinthe,
milky-green and slight

as syllables. A long time
they dangled there—tender,

secretive. Now, overnight,
this boisterous swarm

of leaves: a whole dictionary
thick with the nuances of poplar.