the path

[saw]

Friday is covered in mud
Saturday has thunderbreath
lightning is in the eyes of Sunday

time gets trampled just right
like a geisha on a tourist's back
the paths are soaked in flamboyant flora

the creatures scamper like children playing
wet fur lashes dripping fronds
ferns thick as thieving pickpockets

my boots are the soundtrack's bass
the squirrel and deer are rhythm players
the birds are tremolo and twang

my orchestra breathes deeply
my worries get snagged, torn
by sticker bushes, waiting briars

tension jumps into the river basin
peace comes in reverence....
and raindrops

[Terri]

as a poem -
not discounting what the words are doing -
this is a movie made by a musician

[saw]

thanx a lot Terri....appreciate the feedback...