Somewhere

Somewhere in these busy woods a woodpecker tattoos tree bark. Somewhere songbirds and squirrels hustle like hoodlums on arboreal streets. Sometimes, when somewhere, I am a rope-less tent pitched under a million acres of sky. Tall Firs push up to break through to where the air billows and sails. Somewhere my path is still moving on. Here, beyond any mechanical entropy is an unruffled forest glade, a good place to be bewitched in a dappled circle of nowhere.