Crooked trees

We write the story in the deepest recesses

As we slip into sleep

That special place that calls us to give in,

Let the soul relax into itself

And the words will fall smoothly into place

Like cars in line on a highway

Patiently waiting for their turn to move.

We hurry about never listening

Until the light turns red

We stop,

finding ourselves suddenly aware

Of crooked trees and the song that drones

Blurred lines in summer haze

Our ears play deaf yet the knee still moves to the beat

Because somewhere within

Something knows the rhythm

And it’s that something that we see

Like the man waving the sign on a busy corner

Wearing a hat to shade the glare

Still unseen by many

That we flag a peace sign and smile to just because

No one wants to stand alone unheeded,

Because we know within

How not to ignore the invisible.

We slip between these words softly

Like fresh bathed skin on silk

Nestling down in our cocoon to become

Part of that moment where we slip in to that place

When all the words,

The feelings relate.

Like a taste of chocolate after thirty days of none

Those words find us waiting eagerly

To hold and cherish

As we acknowledge the beauty

Of the gift given

In a thought of crooked trees things happen

When we stop

When we see

As we can finally be,

So suddenly.


16 thoughts on “Crooked trees

  1. thanks Marie, the things you see down here….the palms grow in strange and cool ways all over the place ๐Ÿ™‚ and my bananas are finally ripening…had one this morning ๐Ÿ˜‰ fun in Florida ๐Ÿ™‚


  2. Beautiful writing, Kim. I loved so many of your images and connections here, like the words falling into place like the lines of cars on the highway, and the way it feels to fall asleep with whole poems arriving in our minds. And how something within us, something-something, always knows the rhythm. A delight to visit here again!


    Liked by 1 person

  3. I think that’s why I thought of you as soon as I saw that because I’m exactly the same way. I decided that I’m going to go ahead and start submitting regularly and consider it rejection a step closer to successful publication and making a steady income from my poetry. I see you as a talented poet s and I hope you do the same with your writing but I get it.
    not that it will help but the funny thing is I’m having this exact same conversation with the only other person that I sent the same thing to, Anita Lines.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I know, I know…..still goes back to the never feel like I’m good enough…I know you have no idea what I mean….ha, but I will take a stab…..will have to create a file on Mac Daddy and begin…after all, you turned me onto Russ…we know how great that worked out…you, my friend, are the real deal and I thank you….will let you know how it goes๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ’œ

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Funny, no. It’s just high time you started getting paid for your excellent poetry.
    There are spreadsheets around to track your submissions. Submit, submit, submit! You’ll start getting paid. A rejection just means, NEXT! Just like in sales.
    Robert Okaji once told me that the trick is finding those publications where what they publish feels like a conversation with your own poetry.

    Liked by 1 person

Your words are stars and I humbly thank you for shining your light for me....

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