His vision fixed beyond the branches
barely seeing the verdant fields.
His mind refused to hear
the twittering Fantail,
the wind rustling through golden leaves.
Concentrating only
on the sound of the stream,
trickling between the tree roots.
As he waited patiently
for his urine to flow.
Poetry is my aeroplane 
Very creative poem there, Andy. Glad to read your writing and poetry again. Hope all is well, and enjoy the upcoming cooler season 🙂
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