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.
