In The Hammock

in the hammock
where chickadees rehearse their choirs to the early morning risers
and the neighbours chickens chatter from their coop
and the cardinal couple chimes in too with their
flashing red radiance between the gentle cedars
with their limbs outstretched and
sheltering
me
from both sun and showers
draped and swaying
me
with eyes half shut in cool grey shadow
warmth of sunlight trickling
through the canopy
marbling the fabric
stretched tight the black woven ropes
the weight of the body
suspended
the worries of the world
silenced
as a single dandelion seed
quivers in the slightest breeze
held mid-journey – just like me –
in the spiders shining web
on the strips of silver bark
slowly shedding
like the amber spheres of sap
that gleam like the sun