The Roots
Under your house, in the middle of the night
the roots are spreading across your foundation.
The roots are not a solid base for the visible,
they have never claimed to be that, they have
never even spoken to you. What roots do
is reach out for available space, where roots reach
Is a place you cannot see but which you feel
pulled towards but you are not being pulled,
you are reaching further and further. Up above
your head in the unseen inside you are also reaching.
In the middle of the day the sky’s foundation
is laid again and you are reaching across it
without knowing because you are distracted
by an oak tree’s afterthought ankling out of the earth
And back in where the world is constantly displaced
by the unseen middle, unstraight path.
Translations from the English 
Marvelous…I guess. But I could write that kinda stuff, too…if I were you!
(Have you been in contact with Bob today? He has an appt. tomorrow that just must be concerning for him. I’m sure you know about it but…just in case.)
And your poem? You knocked it outta the park…as usual! 🙂
“an oak tree’s afterthought ankling out of the earth” — warps my alleged mind!
Ron
I know for a fact that your mind is more than alleged. I have blamed so many things in my own mind on the impact of your mind’s haiku. So it better be actual.
And Bob? Have u talked with him? 🙂
(On the alleged mind thingie…it used to be real and actual, but reading your and Bob’s poetry…well…it’s somewhere between real and “owl-egged.” My story and I’m sticking to it! In any case tanx for the kind words!)
Ron
I have not talked with Bob but just shot him a note.
10-4 good buddy!