walking,
a girl
alone,
I,
tired,
came upon an old tree in the woods
horizontally inclined
its leaves long ago decayed,
all missing,
hollow in the middle,
a hiding place for small creatures,
a worthy seat for me

sitting,
a girl,
alone,
I
looked up at the tall tree beside it
filled with verdant foliage
and the rustle of winged things,
invisible
but for the shaking of leaves,
and
admired,
when
onto my hand
a bare twig dropped

staring,
a girl,
alone,
I
watched it:
delicate creature, but sturdy
strongly jointed legs of six
elegant antennae, two, tickling my palm,
and an elongated body
“what a flawless disguise,”
thought I,
the girl,
alone
with
guest

walking,
the stick,
alone,
it
clung to me,
testing the strangeness of my hand
with slow motions
of graceful body parts
it climbed
calmly
encircling my wrist
like a bracelet
formed,
surprising me with its
limberness
and
capacity to hold on silky skin

lingering,
a girl,
alone,
I
experienced
this alien encounter
with fascination
and
deep respect
until,
sympathetic,
I gently placed it back on the living tree
where
it walked away
unhurriedly,
yet rapidly disappearing,
melding into noble tree

pondering,
a girl
grown,
I,
smiling,
remembered lessons barely whispered
in woodland wonder
under trees,
the tiny things
amazing me,
and,
strangely,
how a fallen stick walking
somehow
remains
a
part
of
me

~

Words and Photography ©2017 Tanya Cliff ~ to contact me

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