I step out and think
I hear the trees talking or
maybe that’s the wheezy exchange
of hot air through their stomas
yeah probably not conversing
in this heat
without complaining
what would there be to say
in the middle of suffering
I’m sure their effort is spent
digging for that steely resolve
to just hold on with
slow measured breaths
maybe use them like a mantra
to withdraw to a quiet place
or perform a prayer of mercy
whispered at a cloudless horizon
as I look around
it’s hard to tell
what’s going on
with so many heads bowed
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