penniac

pine trees touched by the winds elusive whisper

as gnarled branches stretch for a desperate grasp

a glimpse of motion for the motionless

an ethereal backdrop to a sun glistened river

swollen with the springs runoff

sun dapples the moss on which i sit

bird song heard at a tantalizing distance

and i sit peaceful in the penniac woods

respite for my weary mind

the sun warms the winter’s ache in my breast

while a river’s breadth away lies highway 8

its asphalt beckoning my feet

and i know i will answer the call

but not today

today i rest on sun dappled moss

filled with anticipation