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The Pond
December 8, 2017
The calm ripples of the water
crash onto the shore.
A gust of wind sways the long tall grass
and the vibrant green trees to and fro.
It brings the smell of the fish below
and fresh grass cuttings.
Birds chirps grow louder and then silence.
You can taste earthy damp air on your tongue.
Shivers run through your body
as you touch your toes off of the hard dock
into the fresh cold water.
Hands brush against every blade of grass.
Feet are cushion on plush greens.
A gust of wind overwhelms you,
In this moment you are
Home.
© Matt S., Glastonbury, CT
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This poem depicts a place that I go to escape reality.