Like silent empty bones,

concrete drinks heat from the sun.

Within a spring day,

the sound of a gurgling river,

kisses the moment.

The dusty dead giant,

ignores natures flirtations.

…

A butterfly stretches its wings,

in the thin mountain air.

The moment grabs my heart,

concrete and machinery dissolve

into roots, wet dirt, and fuzzy antennae.

Powdered wings lift my soul,

while the waterfall’s music

polishes submerged boulders.

…

Copyright  2017 Zachary W. Gilbert