when acacia blossoms in late autumn

the usual trails are quiet
this moment is all anticipation
and fear, and expectation, and looking towards
the greater savannah, the plane
of existence in sunlight and wind, and among
predators and their prey;

you talk to me
inquisitively, scattering
words, images, probabilities,
answering self-induced questions,
like a sudden torrential rain
in some wadi or another;

i say
nothing, and the silence
expands, engulfing whole
attitudes, approaches, actions,
words, worlds, universes
and minds.

giraffes roam the corridors
of untouched voicelessness,
and the smell of acacia
brings an alternate

say something

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.