from my current vantage
i see first to the west
and next to the north
than comes south
and, with a twist, and a lean
there lies the east

i know the sun
it is brightest to my left
where the shadows
they lean in toward me
while darkest to my right
in front the claw hand
of an old pine branch beckons
and autumn dominates behind

i am the centre
of a needle free compass
pointing nowhere
looking everywhere