it is the underside of leaves
where true tenderness lies
untouched by relentless sun
huddle in canopy disguise
with an affinity for the strength of stem
an organic parasol shade
veined chlorophyll lattice
tangled in web palisade
it is here where you will find me
frail skin caressed by catepillar
and although i no longer see the sky
droplet reflections comfort the eye
the value of a fallen tear
glistens, revealing the blue
on shimmered surface tension
of diffident dew
are you acquainted with tales of tenderness?
voluble versions of vulnerability
from the pen of one
once a child
who would stoop for the lowly earth worm
on a perilous concrete passage
returning him to lush, moist loam
ending such an errant, wayward roam
what would you do with him?
alter the cadence of your stride?
and what of me?
for I am in your path
and the day is warm
offer me your shadow
there, a soothing darkness
threaten me with careless boot?
i’ve crossed such paths before
lulled in poikiloform torpor
no, gather me
my annuli traverse your heart line
your palm sensing shuffling setae
tender me to your love…
in tepid torpor, on soporific soil
tangling in such terrestrial toil