Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

unidentifiable
forces shove like a bully,
corrugated jaws
squeeze like snapping turtle questions

the whys have it

the gavel comes down
the wye oak trembles,
the leaves are really attached
to the hunky swaying branches

an affinity old as time

the branches love the trunk
they spread their appreciation
like open arms, and the trunk....
well, he digs the earth

thinks her loamy body is hot

so he stands erect
tried and true green,
her brown torso
the perfect contrast

my meditation is environmental

I sit here spinning my eyes
like tombstone cherries
in an ancient slot machine
my view of the garden tells me everything

this truth is natural.....1-2-3

my castered chair begins to spin
in circles that make my dizziness
feel righteous, yes, movement
is the skeleton key hiding

on a rusty nail

in a closet....I twist my meddling fingers
feel the electricity in my arm like Ben Franklin must have,
movement....... is my fortune cookie....
I gobble it up.....paper and all

I've so often heard our Original People call the Trees, the Tall People,
giving these living giants across the globe giving their Life to Life in return.

This is wonderful piece you've given life to, SAW.

I enjoyed the words, their placement, their message... near perfect for an old man like myself.

"Gracias" many times...

great reply man...thanx