In the brush

of the forest

pain comes out as a sigh

in answer to a question that falls as a tear

The trees whisper to me

but

I have no ears

and I must listen

I have no mouth

and I must scream

I have no feet

and I must run

I have no skin

and I must feel

I have no vision

…..and yet I see……

all the wood for the trees

© Vivian Zems

Midweek Motif: A Million Years Howl When Voices Whisper Among the Trees.

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