Poise In Oak

an idle wave to a crony is how i begin every expedition to. maple and oak render benevolence as we exchange us. masters of this realm. i sense their silent rhetoric built from time and in discipline. making no bones, the forest amplifies a familiar tone; a quaint display; a hero’s welcome. vermillion leaves trickle down like confetti i sense celebration. august percussion echoes freely from inside the nebulous river, keeping time so perfectly, it can’t exist. birds attempt (chirp__!_) mimicking some grand organ but I am not so sure. a fortuitous birth and an ample forest, i owe everything.