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This is my soliloquy, among the towering maple trees. The day is brisk, sleep feels short, I'm happy, well-rested,ofcourse. The crickets sing and the sun shines through the maple leaves shining with dew. The fire crackles, the fire burns, the people shiver but soon they'll learn that although the cabin might make you freeze, the cabin is perfect just for me.
The wildlife is shy to show, but the more they see the bolder they'll grow. The turkeys linger when it's dark, the moon bright but soon to depart. The bears lumber in the back, long claws but still they lack the courage to venture close to me, to me and the maple trees. The moose hide, but still, they're there, soft underfoot and everywhere. The wildlife will warm up to me, or else they'll forever cower by maple trees.
The cabin is lonely, and I like it that way, because I only do whatever I say. I can sing, I can cook, I dance or even read a book. The day is yours, but also mine, and I choose to not socialize.
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YOU ARE READING
Life Through A Seaglass Lens
PoetryPoetry- found by many but all so different. This is how I find it, through a camera lens of soft foggy green, a rhyming stanza of all I've seen. I am going to die by my own terms, facing whatever being shaped my soul, weapons out and teeth bared, o...
