Between Trees



There are squirrel tracks in the snow,

 Trapped in the dimensions of white.

  Was he hungry or restless?

  The trees stand shameless, bare.

   Bold blackened bark, stoic guards

   As winter whispers patience

And to dream until the dream freezes

 Into a swarm of hunting snowflakes.

  Is desire kept in them?

  Icy when left alone?

  Beguiling in a twinkle of sparks?

  Yet when a handful is held they melt

  And burn your hands as desire melts regret.

The trees know the season’s riddle.

  They’ll wait for desire to awaken.

   Hear them crackle in the wind?

  The squirrel has found his tranquility

As we gather our courage in mittens

And roam for desire again.

Copyright 2015 Digestible Ink

Protected by Copyscape Duplicate Content Protection Tool


photo: By Ranjithkumar.i (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (, via Wikimedia Commons


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