C. Hunter Davis Vashon Island, WA poet

I Do Not Earn My Living Studying Cottonwoods

I could fund my life
With the study of cottonwoods.
Their fluff blows through town
And I could follow one blow to its source,
Detail height and width.

My heart would take over the brain
And complete my personality
If I studied populus trichocarpa,
I’d pay the expenses of the mind.

They root in swamp and heft
Themselves to arid places.
They have grown every moment
I am not examining them.

Rolling in seasonal change.
Bone thin leaves graying as
The sun drops from this side of earth.
Candle sweet scent.

Flush through nearby woods.
Catkins go to spring purple.
Even as I earn my living

C. Hunter Davis is a poet from WA who writes poems in the morning as an excuse to watch the pine siskins and drink coffee from a yellow cup.  He lives on Vashon Island with his dobro playing mate.



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