“The tree which moves some to tears of joy, 
	is in the eyes of others only a green thing”
	—William Blake.
 
Nemophilist, an ancient Greek word
for a haunter of the woods,
is a perfect way to describe 

my daughter. Instead of weeping
for her, I’m going to dry my eyes, 
and take her two children hiking.

I’ll teach them everything I know.
Everything she taught me.
She knew about shinrin-yoku

long before the rest of us rushed
out for our forest-baths. She knew trees
were sacred givers of life and keepers

of wisdom. On every walk in the woods
she’d greet the plants and trees,
asking them for guidance and healing.

Gingko leaves are fan shaped,
Bodhi leaves look like a heart, 
Pacific Hawthorn heals cancer.

It’s thanks to her I am friends with 
chamomile, yarrow, and dandelion. 
She taught me to ask permission 

of a plant before picking, to never pick
the entire crop— leave half for next
year—and to always say thank you,

even when picking stinging nettles.

1
Where’s the second floor? he said.
It’s upstairs, I said, and pointed up ↑.
Thank you, he said, and went downstairs. 
 
2		
Tourist: Is this the second floor
Me: You’re in the basement.
Tourist: Second floor?
Me: This is the basement. The second floor is up there.
         I point up ↑. Can I help you Sir? 
Tourist: We’re told there’s lots of art on the second floor.
Me: Yes, the paintings are on the second floor. Take the elevator over there →. 
Tourist: Up two floors?
Me: Press two in the elevator.
Tourist: Two?

3
Tourist pointing up ↑: So the photography is upstairs? 
It’s downstairs, I said, pointing ↓
Upstairs? he pointed up ↑ again
Good afternoon Sir. The photography is downstairs.
The Walker Evans photos…? 
You will find all the photos, including the Walker Evans exhibition downstairs, 
I pointed down again ↓
Are you sure? he said.				

4
I’m sorry, he said, Where’s the restroom please?
Downstairs.
He pointed up ↑
No. Downstairs, and I pointed down ↓
Oh downstairs, and he pointed ↓
When I nodded, he bowed and went ↑