This picnic table had a great view of the sea
but it was what was behind that distracted me
when I turned these twisted elongated branches
were reaching at me with strong twiggy pincers
their prehensile limbs moving into my space
their sinister demeanour put a frown on my face
I was sure as I sat that these ti-trees did creep
I was sure as I sat that my body they did seek
before being encased in the arms of these woods
I got up and ran while I felt I still could

Poetry days #24.

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