💾 Archived View for alioop.flounder.online › poems › oakhillpoem.gmi captured on 2024-08-24 at 23:56:49. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2023-09-08)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“kerplunk” goes my rock.
“kerplunk” goes the frog.
a twig snaps across the pond.
i lock eyes with her:
a doe, unsure, perplexed,
until she settles on frightened.
a flash of her white tail and she’s gone,
but i still hear her huffs through
the branches and brambles
for another minute or two
as she shakes me off.
i walk on until i reach a
crabapple tree, and a hoard
of chipmunks start to scold me,
their “chips” sounding like a
chorus of gnomes’ hammers.
a bench invites me to stay.
an owl wakes and asks me about
the last time someone made me a meal,
then alights silently
and floats into the autumnal
wood, as the crickets
introduce the evening.
the birches stand bone white
in the gorge, peering through
the butter yellow beech leaves
like shipwrecked masts of
ghost ships.
a woodpecker knocks
on an ash. “there you are!”
i say, and he laughs
and bounces to the
other side. the katydids
begin to percuss. the aspen
leaves dance. the grey
squirrels conclude their rustling
and make their way back
to their nests. and when i
turn the corner
into the clearing, the
trees are aflame
and the sky is too.