A Lizard Taps My Foot

Poetry as its finest

A Lizard Taps My Foot

It’s my last day with the old giants
In mourning I hike the lost trails,
sniffing the aroma of the bark,
that cinnamon of the forest
Under teepees of wood
in a membrane of shadows,
I stalk the earth, its mammal traces,
its elusive tracks,
to sit on a fallen log
where spiders macramé,
moss sloping to my knees
unaware of invisiibles within,
grubbing in their tunnels
A lizard taps my foot,
responding, I muse to its touch,
my thoughts like Indian visions,
And when daylight mushrooms into night,
and an owl hoots from cedar,
I still sit with a lizard on my shoe
Huddled with the ancients of the woods

Reviews

[barleygirl]

Just yesterday, I finished the book: AWOL on the Appalachian Trail, the best book I've read on this topic, but your poem is better. This author, tho describing the hiking itself with precision, he hardly touched on the wildlife & surroundings such as in your poem. I have a special thing about lizards, which are plentiful in my wilderness habitat, often inside, so I love the warm friendly treatment you give the little squirmies. This is a lively account of a hike that makes me wish I could still hike! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie