anything before that; is much too soon.
I noticed the tall pine swaying, with half its needles
resting on the ground in a fetal
position, as if waiting to be born again.
The finch on the adjoining limb, sang
for awhile to me as I stood beneath her tree
contemplating the destiny
of tomorrow's embrace,
my saving grace....
...holding back;
as the seed in wait
on the dark floor,
of the deep forest...
