Elm trees hum your God to sleep
Who has no ears but feels things.
No one knows what no one means,
And no one means what one knows,
No one needs to. What one knows
Has no need to mean. This means
What you heard in those strummed words
From elms in the most dense woods
Of black night’s drifts of banked lights,
Those trunks that moaned in God’s ears,
Can’t be true. There’s no one voice
To the wind. Fast clouds, not mist.
