My Place on this Soil

Posted below is a response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt.



Stepping where November
still lies, dry and brown,
on the forest floor

and bare trees stretch
from earth, knuckled and knalred,
like the hands of old men,

I watch a gray mouse dash
through the dark of a hollow log,
up a dragon’s tail,

weaving left, right, left
about its frilled back,
but neither beast consider

my breath for I’ve forgotten
my place on this soil.


One thought on “My Place on this Soil

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