The Napowrimo prompt for Day 3 asks us to read a poem “The Girl Who Feared the Wind”, which begins “The trees know” and to write a poem of our own about what the trees know.
The trees know it all
We know that feeble ancient poet
who slares along the lonning
between our rows on good days,
encircles the built-on bourg
peering at nettles. splits in our bark
and holes delved inside us by wild beings.
She is at home beside us.
She who gazes from her armchair
on bad days
across the meadow
to where we grow in crowds
along the rounded valleys.
She finds solace in the sight of us
busily protecting the planet.
She is at home.
- slare (v) to amble slowly
- lonning (n) a lane, specially a secret lane to a farm