a touch

I found the earth to be more Flat, than I anticipated. Then, as the trees with leaves Began to slide. I found not a place To hide. Herbs, that smelled as the earth should, Lingered for me. Bits of green Tried to grow, in the windows, stood So proud. I glued myself to the window, So I would always be able to view the tree. Standing so close, I could touch Shifting leaves, waiving limbs Curves and crooks and such. Red birds had a place to land, Call themselves home At end of day. A place for them to be. All art and verbiage are @ olives and you 2009-2012 unless otherwise stated.