#10

This was the 45th prompt for Jingle Poetry's Poetry Potluck. The theme was nature and life. In a lot of places in Newfoundland the trees have grown into strange, savage shapes because of the wind sculpting them over time. I think they're incredibly beautiful, and for some reason this is the first thing I thought of when I saw this prompt.

-

i recognize the sounds
of the world waking up,
the sun yawning whisps of
foamy clouds across the infant sky

and my feet touch the world's heart
as they move with me, crawling over
the detritus of summer like ants
weaving between the white trees

who stand solitary, their slender bodies
leaning back in rapture as they have done
since they were first ravaged by our winds -
fierce lovers, abstract artists

who on quiet days, gently kiss their masterpieces
admire their tender quills like tiny hands
reaching out to catch the rain, to hold
the sun like a warm stone in emerald palms



SJ