forest-land

There is such a strong memory in me

concrete and water

the buzzing of the trees, the steaming of the leaves

i can feel the rough-stone against my hands, the wet bricks lapped by endless sands

the tumbling shadows through the branches, currents caught by the wilder-man

i hear the scraping of the twigs, the breaking rustle of their twins

no one can remove this energy

from me.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s