He Who Watches

A branch hangs low pulled lower by a decorated box 

Inlaid with blue and red faded by the elements the box hangs 

It floats strung up with ever so thin twine 

A wooden bird stays standing up stapled to the front 

The sun drains the color out and the bird remains a rotten wood color

It stays completely still in the June air

Waiting for a gust of wind to push it to the right or bash it again the stubby tree it hangs from

Its pentagon shape holds residence for incoming birds 

It sees all newcomers to the house it faces

Perfectly still it watches

Watches the dad leave after the fight

Watches the daughter cry on the porch

Watches the dog run away

Watches the cats escape 

It sees the bears crawl and the squirrels climb 

It watches the boyfriends come and go

It watches the wife water the garden

It watches everything, 

Perfectly still. 

kaley

VT

18 years old

More by kaley

  • God

    As children we are taught God was the big man in the sky

    He who watches over, tall and overbearing

    Thorns stapled to his head and bleeding, he was resurrected for us

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    A person gone within thin air

    A colorful soul who was granted a short guarantee 

    A person

    A being

    You spoke to me

    To many others 

  • Her Morning

    The spark of a lighter ignites her morning

    Her pipe lies resting on her lips

    It is a deep brownish purple color tattered with flecks of dark ash