Inanimate

Weeping willows

shoulder to shoulder,

mid-century Victorians

lean upon one another.

Wired webs woven atop

Holy wood poles high above

jumbo jets roar toward a stop-

on the runway not far off

in the distance

skyscrapers pierce 

the solid grey sky

Nothing minds my glance.

Nothing moves

unless moved

by something outside 

Itself. 

Image credit: 803 WHITAKER STREET, DETAIL OF PORCH, NORTHEAST CORNER - Savannah Victorian Historic District, Bounded by Gwinnett, East Broad, West Broad Street and Anderson Lane, Savannah, Chatham County, GA, in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. 

a lone path way

some thing stirs
out there
with out us
with in
we name hope
hanging on
be came
pulling up
our gaze
only then
some thing
in finite
may be
seen.


Photo credited by Carol M. Highsmith, Santa Catalina Island, 2012 in [Public domain].

Fence-lines

The grey fence
leans sleepishly against the morning fog
that lay dew upon the field
which will turn into pixie dust
as the plain rolls into the suns warm gaze.

Before the birds
muster a lilt to try;
the sound of swimming
between tidal flows of atmosphere
immersed, they listen to the mist.

A dappled doe blinks its black eyes
rapidly twitching its ears
seeking the source of the crunch
by the hare munching greens for breakfast,
whose nose twitches up
at the white whir of a hurried wind

chalking up the slate of new day.
A heavy scream shatters the stillness
as the birds scatter in spider cracks
folded inside, the echo
doesn't bother coming back.

What was here
always moving on.



Photograph by © Dietmar Rabich, rabich.de [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0), CC BY-SA 3.0 de (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/de/deed.en) or CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.