Evolution echoes
in the hollows
of the guarding oak tree.
Salvation in it’s roots,
intertwined like fingers in prayer.
Possibilities outline
hillside silhouettes.
Paper-thin illusions
are found in textured walls.
The flicker of the street-lamp
matches the pulse of my heartbeat,
and the shadow on the asphalt
color the hue of my dreams.
Rooftops and light-bulb skies
paint me temporary.
The contradiction of leaving
to staying
throbs.