liquid sunshine
drawn from the heart of a tree
add fire
and the smell of winter
condensing into syrup
to fall in virgin snow
I’ve never tramped through
a sugar maple forest
or set a tap to catch sap
drop
by
drop
I find my sugar caught in
the form of leaves
and hesitate
choosing just the right shape
and bring it to my lips
at first I feel the crystals
crumble on my tongue
dissolving
the maple sand
in the sea of my mouth
returning at the last
to liquid sunshine
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