Hidden Etches In The Bark
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…