the hills are alive

the hills are gone this morning. your logical mind dismisses it as a heavy fog brought on by a warm day in a cold season, but you know, the hills are gone. they surely woke up. stood. stretched & yawned & left on a walk about. the world ends there now, you think as you look at where there were once trees & is now nothing but white colored nothing.
why doesn’t anyone else see it?
the sleeping giants have gone adventuring & left an end to the world unguarded. a gateway to another place? you know the hills will return before the “fog” clears. you think about walking out…out to where the world now ends, but you are not ready.
not today.
not this time.

a bit of green

they erupt after you have give up hope
just staring out
at the grey slush…
&
wait!
there is something green!
the greys, browns, & white
have dominated for so so long
ever since the twinkle lights were so
unceremoniously
packed away
& you were beginning to think
life was a colorless
thing
mostly colorless
(no offense to the greys, browns, & white)
but, c’mon
for being the shortest calendar month
february can go on for a really
really
fucking long time
so
whether a squirrel moved it there
or it’s a forgotten hopeful thing you planted
green is now inching its way
out of the mushy brown
&
wait!
doesn’t that kind of describe
you
the way you
feel
as well?

it’s out of season, but this was a writing prompt given in the little group i am trying to get started.

cut me down

like an apple tree dropping fruit
doing the math in its head
5 + 6 + 4 + 4….
like a walnut tree
chunking its nuts at the ground
chunk!
th-unk!
unsettling
setting off fear responses
fight or flight?
but the squirrels know what to do
they bury the nuts
for later
& if they forget?
the walnut tree renews itself
sending out a taproot
so deep
you can cut it down
but it will grow right back
i always grow back
i am resilient if nothing else
i am that
he cuts me down
over & over again
but i grow back
every
time.

i have been working on fiction stories for my next collection (without having properly finished my first collection.) & wondering about starting a writing group….
i wrote this in my journal as i sat enjoying an autumn day.
but it works as free verse too.
& it’s a true story.

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