Watcher
I am the watcher of the space between
the ground and rocks you step on,
the feeling you get when in the woods
of eyes following your every move,
the itch on the back of your neck
sweat budding on your palms
the twig you hear behind you
I am the protector of the tall ones.
I am the watcher of the space between
the dead leaves on the forest floor,
the crunch underneath your boot
the tiny things your eyes miss,
grass heads and budding fronds
scattered across your path
hatchling toads confuse your eyes
I am the protector of the small ones.
I protect the tall ones until you come with your machines
I defend the small ones until you bring your chemicals
I am the watcher in the space between
I am watching you.
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