20 Nov
a pair of eyes 
a cornstalk
a dry ear, 
a nose of stone
a rotten stump swarmed with ants.

Preceding a yes, no, or maybe
there is 
a grain 
bursting out a sprout,
a root, 
a stem reaching to 
a sun that winks
days, nights, seasons, 

a tree
ringing in the centuries until
a storm, 
a flash seared into
a core withered down, which
a termite ate and dropped

a fertilizer for 
a mossy cushion enjoyed by 
an observant anthropoid to recline on.
Before my eyes, 

a busy creator (underrated)
created, destroyed, recreated
over and over
before my eyes.

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Posted by on November 20, 2021 in Poetry



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