high up here

i woke up this morning and stared at the trees outside my window
or at least the concept of a tree was in my mind when i gazed out toward that particular direction
discerning from a palm to a oak to a sycamore to a willow
is hardly attributed with the minds ability to seperate and identify
the unique characateristics of brown and green.the essence or soul of a tree is just as unique.
the ancient greeks spoke of dryads and spirits
dwellig within the trees. maybe they saw beneath the bark and the arrogance of flesh.
made breakfast of what the water receded.
stepping out i say,
hit by the light.


you cant help but laugh.
punctuation i can see in my head.
comma is for a pause of air and a
period finishes the thought.spoken it is accentuated by the rise and fall
of teeth and lips. language is worn on the tongue. slick and smooth it sheds like a snake
leaving behind only the past. burnt by a match head. famine elects stronger stronger oxen to carry
the wheats and barley to the crematorium. sitting in the docks rotting and praying.
each step is lighter than air.
each step lifts us higher.
each step is joined at the hip.
each step is sighing.
each step is each step after the next step.

walking doesnt take that much effort does it.