On Loneliness

By K. Andrew Turner

There is something
about solitude in trees,
soft laps of liquid
against stone
and wood
and plant.

Revealed in moments
around dry landscape.
Hoarse cry of toad
Insistent birds looking for mates.

Sunlight splashes across
the shadow of my hand
reflecting my nature
upon nature.

Distant rush of traffic
on gentle breeze.
Faraway laughter
in spring.

Brown, gold, green
tapestry woven over lumps
and crags
and stuffed into gullies.

I’ve found the burial ground
of Egypt here.
Snakes instead of mummies.

Twisted trees beseech sky
for rain, yet weeds
tell of recent showers.

Peaceful and soothing
restoration of the soul.
There is something
about solitude.