Morning Woods

March 24, 2009
Custom User Avatar
More by this author
I amble through the tangled trees
Of which I know so well
The mist then settles on my brow
In morning’s darkened sky
The sullen clouds loom overhead
And dew clothes the dampened ground
The birds that sing each morning
Now not make a sound
And a crooked tree’s branches
Have fallen to the floor
The smell that follows rain
Lingers like a thought
Floats like a feather
Sleeps silent

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback