this is not a metaphor

From Anne Haven McDonnell’s “She Told Us the Earth Loves Us”:

I forget sometimes
how trees look at me with the generosity
of water. I forget all the other

breath I’m breathing in.
Today I learned that trees can’t sleep
with our lights on. That they knit

a forest in their language, their feelings.
This is not a metaphor.
Like seeing a face across a crowd,

we are learning all the old things,
newly shined and numbered.
I’m always looking

for a place to lie down
and cry. Green, mossed, shaded.
Or rock-quiet, empty. Somewhere

to hush and start over.