small, bluish sinews branch into
letter M.
One side of the trunk is darker
due to Sun exposure, with amorph
golden-yellow spots.
As it breathes blood, exhales warmth
to feed small hill above its flesh.
It’s like a map, containing my life line
trimmed at several places.
It used to go all the way around the hill.
Bark is depleted, almost erased.
I cannot count to see how many rings of heart
have left me?
Humming bird’s song
echoes my soul
in the upcoming dawn.
Maja S. Todorovic
Business in Rhyme 