Collapsible Sounds Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Watching as pine trees reach upwards, wanting to climb craggy
mountains to their tops just to see the landscapes below them.

Curious as to what everything will look like from higher up,
not knowing the purpose of doing so, edging their way into
portraits of poetical rhythms as music plays.

It's collapsible sounds filling our minds while we sit and
wait for midnight to come around once again in a morning sun-
rise.