The deep orange hairs sway in the breeze
as if they were green blades of grass
covering a vast expanse of warm skin
and dancing to the forest's rhythm.
Big round obsidian orbs gleam
in the early morning light
as pink lips purse together
surveying the spread of trees.
With a screech they are off,
strong arms thrust upwards,
hands grasping limbs and
hooking quickly from one
branch to the next in a wide
and graceful swing.
I can only smile at such joy
wishing I too could climb trees
with such ease.
Written Tuesday, February 21, 2012 - 9:21am
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