Tall guardians of sticks and leaves.
The winter sky weighs heavy on the canopy.

Rain appears from nowhere and everywhere
the ground becomes the horizon.

The faster I run up and down hills
in circles and through fields of grass

I am still myself and I still exist
in this form but where this is

becomes placeless and free of
attachments and what I am left

with is what I need to overcome.
They are here and watch over

as I lay upon the wet earth
with eyes closed I exhale

the poison and inhale the fog.