Under the vast wispy sky
(Inspired by a photo taken by Deborah P Kolodji)
I am a wiry brown cliff tree
Approaching the coming winter
My leaves have fallen off of me
Into the grand canyon below
So I point across the divide
With many gnarly twig fingers
To how wide the years are
You may notice me for a minute
But the carved rainbow ridges will
Captivate you all your short life
As they have mine, when I die
I just want to fall in, remain part
Of the millions through eons
Sky whispers
Wake up my eyes, clouds in the air,
Like trees reach out try to touch moisture
Clouds in the welkin dance with love
Like white dragons or flapping doves
Me and the trees can only watch and sway
Want generated winds to carry us away
Clouds stretch and become so wispy
Spirits in the baby blue get so hot and dry
Trees are a feeling audience and so am I
Some clouds finger God because they are
So fleeting, so temporary, so repetitive there
One day they are this, they know they can fly
The next they are not, I too wish and cry
Eat me ground, process me, send me high
Key to the Sky Steps
A woman is rejoicing
head upturned with
arms full of fallen apples
The wind itself
shook the tree
like a skeleton
A nearby dog watches
not as Cerberus
but harkened salivator
The mammals dance
give thanks to the sun
provider of decay
Maker of new seeds,
sprouts, puppies,
babies, cadavers
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