Full circle

The ancient eavesdropper

Glistening like 
the eyes of a 
newborn —
green to 
the world —
the naive tree
with leaves
wide open.

Cottonwood 
branches bash
against the 
clouds —
seed stuffing
floats down —
Nature’s 
pillow fight. 

Overcast 
morning —
the worms’
alarm set
on snooze —
the early 
bird gets 
irritable.

The 
mighty
feline 
returns —
proud 
of her 
successful 
hunt —
dead
shrew
on the 
doormat.

The poem
I never wrote —
a seed buried 
so deep —
no sun to
coax its 
growth —
in the limbo 
of creation.

Countless 
poetrees
growing 
under 
our feet —
lifting the 
world to
higher 
ground —
our heads in
the clouds.

All walks of life
passing us by —
the vultures fly
full circle.

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About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
This entry was posted in Nature. Bookmark the permalink.

12 Responses to Full circle

  1. Jen E Town says:

    What wonderful images you have produced in my head with your personification of nature. I really enjoyed your poem. 🙂

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