We too are treed. And us,
as well. Albeit 'poorly' works as well
as well, for this context. We find
we've gone a-treeing, further up
in mind we've climbed than e'er before.
To e'er in such resplendent climes
is natural, and blest. I bless it,
anyhow. Now we
look down,
from separate perches high
on high - to find the ants
look just like people, there! Let's see
them scurry out in rows to sigh,
rehearsing themes
that never play.
So down on ground,
not looking up, just feeler-forward
after trace, they hie
themselves towards something
once laid down.
Perchance to sup.
Hey, s'up! Yo ants! Howcome
you're all so clear from here? Oh
we've just stooped
to genuflect. I guess the climb
was yet to be.
I reckon we will rise to it.
But sometimes earth is oh
so free! And lying down
makes truest fit.
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.
but aren't they all random?
Sunday, March 21, 2021
a treeing
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