Eery with the waft and wiff of wildlife.
Sad and yet, joyous is their song.
I understand between the lyrics…this, this, is where I belong.
Never to run, a walk is where my curiosity fits.
Though nothing is delicate between the thorns and ivy. And, cagey hills are lonesome and long.
The untamed…a favorite song.
Sanguine and sandal-ed…to the earth is where I belong.
My silhouette of vanity ties me to the beauty.
My silhouette, minuscule, to all of mother’s scenery.
Moist the air that brings to light…cedar chips and all it delights
While cantankerous fowl sweet-talk to be gods of the sky
Eyes open wide while I release the shutters of months left behind
This passage of rites, fool hardy?
Nudged, I arise to this transformation of movement
So, when it stirs, I stir
When it darkens I lament
An eerie sense of comfort in the December mist.
I collect all my faults in…what is unnoticed.
Though, I am not half the woman I think I am.
Isolation in the still-life of rain…
Guards the fact that I am still somewhat…sane.