Every evening, I have a different set of words galloping through my head at the speed of wild Arabian horses. This evening, I tried to capture a few before they vanished with the setting sun... although I doubt any amount of palaver will ever be enough to describe the beauty of this verdant giant...
I stood beneath the laden sky,
A deep heavy red,
An umbrella shaded my eyes,
Against the cloud dense.
A cover of emerald,
A fringe of silver,
A filigree of fine leaves,
A tapestry whence?
I gazed at the glimmering green
As it whispered to the wind,
I watched as it nobly swayed
And looked out sighing deep within.
What does he say to passers-by,
What does he think as another paper is stapled into his bark?
Does he simply wish, silver jangle in our future?
Or does he let it all melt
Like a shooting star in the black?