Perhaps in another world
I could be a tree!
And every time I open my mouth
You’d see a part of me
Reaching and arching toward the skies
with leaves of purest green
As roots and rabbits dig deep down
inside my mouth to dream.
Of fair weather days with chattering birds
having tea on each branch in bloom
We’ll stop for now, for my mouth is scaring me
As I now find I have no more cabooming room.