
It sounds dignified, Ulmus parvifolia,
much more so than Chinese elm,
Wikipedia will tell you its other aka,
lacebark elm, which is somewhere
(in between)
the scientific, specific and the utilitarian,
common prosaic monikers.
It’s all the same (or is it?) tree,
the one with exfoliating bark,
like a river birch or sycamore.
“The apetalous, wind-pollinated, perfect flowers are produced in early autumn, small and inconspicuous” (Wikipedia.org).
Perfect. Apetalous. Am I to understand that the perfect flower has no petals and draws no attention?
This changes things.
Also, the lacebark elm has that specific scientific specificity perfunctorily:
the bark exfoliates.
Those beautiful gradations
of ochre, moss, copper, amber, and khaki are the result of the bark peeling away from the tree.
Chinese elms shed their outer layers, not like snakes or cicadas,
No, not in one continuous slink out of skin—more like a child with a sunburn,
peeling away this part here, that part there,
exposing the fresh, raw skin beneath,
glowing like a ruby that knows better.

🌳🌳🌳
Reference (sorry, no APA or MLA formatting):
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ulmus_parvifolia
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston




Comments (2)
This is beautifully observed and quietly lyrical. I love how you move from scientific precision into intimacy, letting the bark, the names, and even the Wikipedia phrasing become part of a meditation on attention, beauty, and becoming.
This is such a thoughtful and evocative piece. I love how you’ve taken the prosaic language of a Wikipedia entry and found the hidden poetry within it.