Friday, March 1, 2019

Old Growth (Day 772)

come closer said the woods and so 

we did quieting ourselves to hear 

their wind-bare branches secrets 

stirring  around  around  around 

tiptoeing to a brittle edge we leaned 

in listening to the hesitant groan of 

feet on ancient wide-plank floors 

glancing upward toward the source 

we waited while the sun dropped 

through a pale lemon sky we waited 

while the forest bent and flexed and 

sighed growing impatient we began 

to turn away just as the answers we 

despaired of emerged in wordless 

dance then in afternoon’s last light 

we turned toward home a nascent 

truth entwined in our clapsed hands 

(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

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