filtering

bike drifting
past ancient trees
rough dark brownwet
roots strong as life
with the most startling
baby green filtering
the sky
fresh moist scents
pierce me
windsighing blurs
the vibrations
around me
sssshhhhhhhhhhh….
i want to hear
the birds

two minutes
to remember
4 mei 2010

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This entry was posted in archaeology, poetry, recycling, reflection and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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