The Silence of Trees

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Faded eagle dreams and faded jeans, combing grey hair, boots laced and a light weight camera,

the trails call, moving my spirit beyond crows, rejecting dark wings…I become the silence of trees, and wildflowers holding bees,

where light flickers through the canopy, I seek to know, as anyone could know, the Lord God,

like I did as a young man….

in a place that peace

calls home….

      

Poem, and Image, Copyright © 2020 ancient skies

As Chipmunks Burrow a Little Deeper

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A shifting drift on the mountain ridge maneuvers

as a fresh layer of frozen white settles into the Earth.

The bluest of blue skies seems to hold in the coldness,

as chipmunks burrow

a little deeper, to escape the cold

and the watchful eyes of the hawk perched high

in the pine trees.

    

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2019, ancient skies