Content, blissful,
against her roughness
I lean, and whistle,
wistful… I repent.
This cathedral is calling.
It echoes the whippoorwill,
the rutting buck, the shrill
call of the red-feathered hawk,
talons sink and a meal is caught
…eyes askance, tribute is brought
to the earth in red drops.
There is balance here
and I feel so foreign.
What role can a man play
in the wildness, unfolding?
Today, “Destroyer.”
The animals know their place
as they scurry to and fro,
but for a million years,
man has not known
his own.
Me and Willow,
resting by the lake,
I caress her roots
and count the minnows,
and I do what humans do,
and decompose
for Willow’s
sake.
©️ CG Tenpenny, 2023.
Wow 👌