my own backyard so unexplored
April 18, 2009i wonder how the great hunters do it,
as i tread the raucous leaves, a clashing
cymbal in the domed sanctuary
of birch trees.
surely anything with ears
is now hiding from me,
safe in the golden latticework
of crackling caves
and crevices.
we are a loud and boisterous species;
no wonder earth is so timid to respond
and so often deaf to our pleas.
yes yes yes