The oldest tree transformed into a man.
It took about five minutes.
I expected it to be quicker.
He wore a bird nest upon his head.
His skin was callused—bark-like—
and displayed emptiness
at a few knot holes.
I resisted the urge
to poke a finger into those
out of the fear
bees might attack.
When his mouth moved
in attempting to speak
I felt a tingling in my feet
that somehow made sense,
seeing the ground’s fungus
and broad mushrooms vibrate.
The man directed me
to initiate the chore of a lifetime:
to pick up all of the litter
humans have dropped
upon his forest floor
down to the last plastic micro-particle
that has fallen from the sky
and hides within the snow.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 
Wow, what a wonderful piece! It is truly fascinating that you’re able to write this.
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Thank you. How do you mean it is fascinating that I write this? Do trees not turn into men or women for you (metaphorically speaking)?
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They turn into giants, to me. I don’t know if you would consider this as men/women
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Ah. In Norse mythology giants are both male and female. In Tolkien’s Middle Earth the Ents (the tree shepherds) have both male and female. Maybe you know a mythology where giants are not divided into male and female.
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