Poem 8 Day 8

verdancy,

fresh tendrils,

spiral spun.

jewel of the woods

flourishing’s begun.

The slow twist of the mist

from rainforest’s rug,

where vines like anchors

can swing and tug,

from delirious duff

to dizzy canopy

airy soars,

treetop balcony.

air so dense and

wafting streams,

leaf cutters crawling

among sunbeams.

nightime jaguar

onyx-blue flickering

stalking past trees,

she’s writing the

rainforest’s grimoire.

20 thoughts on “Poem 8 Day 8

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