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Bonsai Tree
Iridescent wings flutter
Smooth green dresses tremble in the wind
Tiny shoes in brown hues.
Chatter like tinkling bells
Gossip going ‘round in circles - a game of telephone.
Did you hear - her dress is turning yellow.
Is she going to fall?
But it is rain that falls
Constant and even
Never too much, never too harsh
A gentle cycle.
Droplets catch on their dresses
Darken their shoes
Quench the thirst
From the bottom up.
Night falls
And they branch out
Extend their wings
And follow the wind.
Tiny feet lift in the air
Head in the clouds
Dresses twirling
An aimless adventure.
Their sole purpose
Is to have none.
Simply take in the fresh air
And fly.
They are never truly seen
But in glimpses
And scattered fragments
Camouflage prevents a clear view.
The sun rises
And the cluster forms again
The shimmering dulls
And their shoes make solid contact.
Couples and sets of three
But one group overall
Tranquil, still
Moved only by the wind.
A peaceful life
Hidden in plain sight.
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