Under Wooden Giants

Gravel roads, softly covered,

dust, like powdered sugar,

Trees, thick and red,

larger than a mighty metal bus,

higher and warmer,

than a tall cold building,

 

“Have we traveled back in time?” I ask my wife.

The 2004 Prius, rolls quietly,

tires massage the earth,

a gentle slow respect,

I am fearful,

the moment will soon be

lost.

 

On the Pacific Coast,

a warm summers day,

Jebidiah Smith Redwoods,

natures pure moment

planted in my  heart,

without a sound.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

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