Tiger Riding for Beginners

Traveling Poet Philosopher & Occasional Wiseacre

tree sits on boulder,
its roots curled over rocks;
child sits on the roots

just a shard of a
once colossal cathedral
stands amid rubble

the tailed jay
is the only shade of green
that's not camouflage

morning frost melts
with early rays of sunlight.
primrose buds slacken.

a full four seasons,
from snow to sweaty t-shirt:
one mountain pass

low clouds reflected
on still seas; a perfect view
on sunset's timer

mountain’s missing top
tells that it’s a volcano,
and once had a top

endless tall grass.
then, with a single step,
a lake appears

a sparrow 
stops in mid-peck
to eyeball me

over the crest, the
world turns from grassy pasture
to barren desert