Random

hands deep
in moist black soil

west of me
there is an ever so pale strand of golden light
it seems terribly frail rippling 
in the pine

the other curious trees lean in to listen to me 
they seem to think I have something to say
I just whistle and they dance randomly with
my warming beating heart

I have moved the nameless dusty red flower now
it is in a sunnier place with other flowers
it seems pleased enough with the change
and I in the ever so slight tremble of earth slipping
through my fingers

jppestana
random
5.14.18