As I reached down
To unlock my canoe
From the tree,
I held onto a black birch
Sapling’s branch.
There, next to my hand,
Was the vacated shell,
The skin of the cicada,
The remains of the nymph,
Clutching the tender
Branch of the young tree.
Captured
by my eye
A small fleeting moment
Even though it matched
The smooth black bark;
Because I stopped,
Enjoyed the vision,
And looked closer.
-------------
edited December 28, 2015
Looking Closer – v2
posted February 14, 2004
written 6/18/2001 11:49am
Looking Closer
All of my
poems and photographs are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002,
2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015.
All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for
usage. See all 40,460+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
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