Hole In The Hedgerow

Poetry, Stories, and Other Musings With Spilt Ink


Baobob

Baobob shadows on the horizon,
Upside down trees with their heads in the sand,
Wide legs reaching for the Sahelian sun,
Fruit bobbing like ornaments from the feet.
The sun laying down for the night behind them to sleep.
Huge sky, touching every corner of the worlds curves,
The stars coming through that darkening blanket that lays over it all.
Reminding me, like the trees, I’m small.
The earth buzzes, a vibration in the air.
The termites on their evening commute from their mud castles.
The mosquitoes looking for blood,
The bats snatching them.
Hard dry earth still very alive.
The dirt in the wind,
The genies dancing with dust.
The land stretching from sky to sky,
And the sky from tree to tree.



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