deepundergroundpoetry.com

the witness

am the dead tree at the hilltop
a relic
atop the dune
�
distance �
irrelevant for me
for mirages �
blur my rune
�
i see sea
and shifting sands
witness countless �
drowning hands
amidst the waves
and on land
�
am the dead tree atop the hill
have an existence
and no free will
�
�
some see a pretty picture
of art
in truth
not much �
else.
�
�
blue skies
or grey
or the mist from �
the ocean spray
change me �
not much
�
am the dead tree �
atop the dune
a bare witness
of sun �
and the moon
and going nowhere
any
time �
soon
�
_
am the dead tree
atop the dune...
�
�
�
�
�
�
�
�
�
~
�
�
�