Bill Smith Poet I do not know?

Crowd Control

So dense our roots fight for space
Our branches touch, our seeds spread
We are all reaching for sunshine
We interact with all that embrace us
The nests, the webs, the burrows
The perches, the dew, the winds
And all the babies
How come we get lonely?

Loneliness is a strange bird
The flock may be around you but you fly
Your direction is with them though alone
Arrive in private, embraced by all
Five year intervals embrace the blur
The heart beat of the years pounds increasingly
Young, old, strong frail, peak, ebb
It comes as it goes
And is gone as it came

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