The Wild

The brilliance and stupidity

of one lone soul

can unleash a myriad of question,

that which need, not always

be answered by anyone,

not even The Wild.

a lone bird

There’s a lone bird

chirping somewhere unseen

and a cold gentle wind

scratching at my knee,

it’s the crack of dawn

sunrise

another day I’ll see,

and though my throat hurts

my ankle weak

I too sing a little tune

with that lone bird

just to let him know

I hear him.