Suitably quiet, he succeeds in blending in, quite invisible, while he waxes nonchalant. Indeed, he'd rather be anything but recognized, just another sapling camouflaged by the forest. Every now and then he is freed from his cocoon and shows brilliantly his talent for spectacle, as crippling stage fright releases its hold on him ever so slightly. Whispers become raucous songs, telling the world, "Look at me!"
1 Comment
Michael Carstensen
1/11/2021 08:22:36 pm
Nice. I enjoyed your poem and the accompanying photograph. The poem was very fitting to the picture.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
April 2021
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