The trees stand glowing
in the rays of the sun
with their leaves,
a loud chartreuse and still.
Between those leaves rest shadows,
like pockets of dark memories
or experiences that are ever shifting
beneath the altering sunlight peering.
Like a secondary thought that gets grazed over.
The shadowy undermounts modestly
holding space
and the fleeting hope
to be noticed
goes by in a hushed breeze.
~Tina Meeks
