Friday, December 20, 2019

Winter Grass


She stood tall and golden, 

this winter grass beneath a setting sun,
and when the breeze blew
she grooved a little
and when the wind gusted
she danced like a storm
like a storm
like a storm
like a wild-natured storm
dangerous and delicate
as a leaf falling from on high
when the wind gusted
she danced like a storm

No comments:

Post a Comment

A Cousin to the Sycamore

When I travel by canoe, by bicycle, by crutch, by foot or by wheelchair I am part of this wide world   I am in and of and with the ear...