(delonix regia)

The tree has died
The trunk has lived and has died
The leaves have fallen on dust
The branches sweat
The limbs’ shadows and the light
(the light of the tree)
The flower of light without tree
The arboreal emotions
The avid explosions, the emotive
Branches break
A tree goes on foot like one dead

With a zombie rustle
On goes a superfluous corpse, green
Like a living corpse, rootless
The tree descends from the wind
The voice comes from vertigo
There is no light like the canopy
...