Comments Inbox
| |
About This Poem
Tales Trees Tells
Trees have a kind of flexibility
Given time they will grow
And left untouched
They will wrap around, grabbing
Within their gnarled and twisted limbs
Integrating themselves into
Broken ruminants of ancient structures
Creating unintentional abstract art
They simply won't be upstaged by anything
Imagine having been alive in times long past
What stories would they unfold, if they could talk?
|
|
|