I live in Marin County, just above San Francisco in the hills. And I often run and bicycle in the hills. And one year, there had been a great deal of flooding and erm, big trees came down. And this is a poem, erm, as few of my poems do actually, did come from an external experience


Too much rain
loosens trees.
In the hills giant oaks
fall upon their knees.
You can touch parts
you have no right to –
places only birds
should fly to.

from Say Uncle: Poems (Grove Press, 2000), © Kay Ryan 2000, used by permission of the author and Grove/Atlantic, Inc. Poetry Foundation recording made on 11 Sept 2007, San Francisco, California.

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