Often in spaces where trees had lived and breathed,
The red tail had sat in wait,
With cocked head peering,

The gray squirrel had halted to eat,
Scratching furiously at mites
Upon his tiny ears,

The ants had marched northward,
High into mossy branched tips,
And back again, foraging.

Often I had waited beneath the shade,
Catching the small summer breeze,
Made of sounds between leaves,

And looking skyward I had seen among the
Green arms at length, a storm approaching,
Until at last the water poured,

Downward on the trunks like so much
Sweat, and ran along the roots in rivulets
Of muddy brown, down and down.

Often in space like this,
Where trees had lived and breathed,
As siblings, I sit alone and see

Only the small saplings in crowds,
Beneath same blank sky as shroud,
And rue my scattered family.

About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s