Last poetry for the night & a little crowdfunding plea. Time is running out. What, you didn’t think I would? (note: I didn’t take this image. This was open for reuse online)
Trees creak around me
Caressed by the breeze
I cannot feel here on the ground.
The giants of the land.
They soar high above in a canopy
Hundreds of years old.
They tell stories of a time long forgotten.
Close your eyes
Let them speak.