From my vantage point
the trees are tall
in all directions
I see
my instinct
calms
I’ll wait
Nochrisis
Day 928, hairs.
I see a stranger
my hairs rise and with my fear
i turn the mirror.
Day 833, feelings.
A small-minded mind
dimly creeps to the sharp edge
not feeling the end.
Day 828, goal.
A little fly attracted by colorful instincts,
flies unaware its self-chosen path,
fulfilling its purpose tight up in its brain
a taste of reward repeats till the unseen and end.
Day 819, six-legged.
Countless six-legged
crawling unseen on the ground
hidden in their world.
Day 793,drones and lust.
Mindless search for it
pheromone laden a tract
bewildered slavish.
Day 767, tiny sunset.
