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the tree
November 18, 2010
I feel the moon upon my skin,
And the wind push on my chest,
But I stand still upon the ground,
I close my eyes and walk in my mind.
The guilt made my face twinge,
The fear lay through my heart,
My eyes glisten with death,
My hand rolled into a fist.
I open my eyes and charge,
I plunge my fist to the tree,
I fall to the soft ground,
I close my eyes and imagine,
The world as it’s supposed to be.
© Daniel N., Gibsonia, PA
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