POETRY: The Drunken Trees

Oct 1, 2016 | | Say something

I stared from my window past midnight,

The trees, obscured by concrete and brick,

Called to me.

They whispered that it was time for their dance.

While the world slept, they would uproot.

And Drink and tell stories of their ancestors.


I asked why they let me witness their ritual,

As the trees danced wild in the wind,

They laughed and said because I was awake, and shouldn’t be.

Posted in: POETRY

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