our backs turned towards the sun
attention focused on the trees
barren with their winter limbs,
roots covered in dirt and leaves
snow piled up around trunks...
birds fly out in mass like the end
of a shift or an ending service in
the house with the cross on top;
our enemies see not our strategy
nor do they see the simplicity of
our thoughts that lure them in...
we are one with the earth, hearing
their movements in the ground
beneath our feet... carefully are
we composed as we turn to do
battle with these trespassers and
they us who they perceive as an
easy prey and not prepared...
arms raised wide for battle, heads
high with clinched teeth and fibers
of every muscle - tensed and ready,
the winds howl past the battle as if
it is of no lasting consequence at all.
February 12, 2024
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