Slung

slung in a hammock, not swaying at all
contemplation takes on new meaning
as the mind empties, empties, empties
of all the,
of all of the,
the whatever it was, that was in there.
Blue, invincible sky
between the blades of tree leaves
shuffling and whispering together,
idly wondering "what are the names of these
two trees, that this hammock is slung between?"
Am I idly wondering?
Or are the leaves idly wondering? I admit
it's become quite ambiguous