Hiding From The Rain


I’d rather be lithe and living amongst the trees, climbing with a song,
dancing barefoot on oak limbs.

I’d rather fall
onto soft tufts of greenish yellow grassy fields than onto mute, solid cement,
in a place where nobody lets loose, just stalking the setting the sun,
sulking with their cigarettes, their achy feet and fast food binging lullabies.

Pounding pavement,
dissing the greens,
does not appeal to me.

I’d rather be
climbing the cool pines,
breathing in their musky scent,
wandering out of the rain,
napping and seeking joy with no refrain.

I’d rather be climbing
than staying on the ground
or having my feet dangling
from peaks upon the clouds.

This post was inspired by a piece on my friend’s Jaya’s WordPress. If you haven’t read her work, you definitely should πŸ™‚

20 Comments

    1. Always ❀️ your writing is so uniquely your own. I don’t know how else to approach describing your work πŸ™‚ . It takes us to places that are enigmatic and sensual and lamenting. I love it. I am constantly searching for writing that invokes feeling and yours does that. πŸ™‚

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    1. Thank you ❀️ I appreciate you stopping by and letting me know how this made you feel. I love pine trees. When I was a kid, I really did hide in pine trees. I’d perch on the lower bough and watch the rain until it stopped. It felt like such an adventure. I was devastated when my neighbors had to cut the tree down. Have a great weekend my friend πŸ˜ŠπŸ™‚

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