I want to run my fingers
through
the scruffs of green hair
dangling from the anorexic, mangled bones
of the sky’s fortresses.

I want to caress the
hardened
skin of aged wisdom and
weathered burdens that
boldly challenge the wind.

I want to lick the
greenness
off a fallen leaf
and see if I can taste the fullness
of now

Photo Courtesy of Stockvault