sound poem

May 13, 2009
By Ashley Lowe SILVER, Craigmont, Idaho
Ashley Lowe SILVER, Craigmont, Idaho
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

One crisp morning I was
out hunting. As I sat
On top of the ridge there
was only the sounds
of the morning waking
up the creak of the trees
the rustle of the wind. The
sound of birds chirping in
their nests and the
sweet sound of silence.


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