Passing cars acknowledge our plight as we dwell heavily on the Roadside jagged rocks. My hand Pounds on my chest to Free the air trapped inside. The Atmosphere settles as Streaks of chocolate and ebony Flitter past, riding gusty rivers of wind. These very streams push inside me, awakening A youthlike vigor or perhaps a riveting buoyancy. A small tree resides on the Crest, pockets of bark hollowed out to Resemble swiss cheese. A sleek streak of Red and black swivels around the central Cylinder. Bark falls away in Patches and hits the earth below. The streak Catches a ride in a nearby spring, Turbulently journeying to its next Architectural undertaking. My soft palm Inspects his creation. Sharp splinters leave Behind a plethora of pinpricks. Such poor Handiwork. My littlest finger discovers its Reflection in the wood. The spiral whorls Replaced by hidden etches in the bark. Concealed by rough skin and Guarded by sharp needles Hidden messages emerge as Secret conversations A new streak docks at the Freckled bark and indulges in the Etchings left behind, lengthening the Scripture for the next. The sturdy bark Holds dozens of concealed exchanges amid Separated lovers, beloved friends, distant family The characters swirl around the bark, in an Endless flow of anger, love, and sadness. I was wrong—this is a masterpiece. - Jasmine Herri