I am back to hugging trees

I am back to hugging trees,

my line of scot’s pine and oak.

Grey trunks are still in the half light

 whilst branches

bear the estuary wind from the ridge.

My cheek is to the bark,

arms tender to the cold girth,

searching for the

energy driven through

sap lines.

A soul deep movement

like a child turning in utero,

turning back the years

To a body that moved within a body.