Monday, April 13, 2009

Forest

Shaky birch tree limbs
Walking towards
Big black fingers nestled white
Clouds stare at me. Blinded
By the trapped sun.
Quiet like a blind, deserted forest,
In complete darkness.
Sitting down, focusing on flying
Notes in my head. Deep breath.
Gag! Too much perfume
Teacher of mine!
Nervousness creeps further,
Cotton fluff for a tongue
Play keys. Play notes. Play song.
No laughter? That's swell,
Keep playing, thinking
Almost through. Back to home
Again in the forest
A solid sycamore.


Gabcast! Poetry #1