Close up, my nerves are the cold red skin
of the Wild Berried Manzanita.
A synchronized labyrinth of branching impulses
synapsing in the wind.
Softly stirred yet silent,
and still unswayed like the floppy flexing of the pines.
My every thought, movement, and involuntary action
dance up those smooth skinned arms
before they flower, fruit, and fall unfettered
returning to the source.
About the Author
Kali Pollard is a writer, a student at Diablo Valley Community College, and a person who prefers to be outside. She’s just happy to be here. So, thanks. If you’re so inclined, you can read more of her writing at crotalusoreganus.tumblr.com.