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Vineyard

I once walked past an apple tree.
To some degree more free than me.

While I was walking, the tree could not.
Still it was swaying a bit, nodded and rocked.

Wind journeyed towards us.
Hailing cheerlessly, waking me up.

I noticed I had become like a statue
- glued to the spot.

It took some wind to find, rewind and unwind.
Before the chilling breeze hit, I was unable to admit
that the tree was merely resting; not caring a bit.
Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
:iconmaster-of-nothing:

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November 6
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