I learned about understory in Alaska
As my friends and I waded through the
Green grasses beneath the alder trees on
A tiny island in a river as silver as Coho
Salmon while dragonflies flitted
Past us in a sheen of blue.
I marveled at the thought of each quiet
Thing--seed and leaf and moss and shrub--
Whispering their stories there
Beneath the noise of our unhearing feet.
1 comment:
You are on a creative streak of which I am jealous. I look forward to the next one.
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