'Twas the final hour
ere the woods went dark
and the night promised no moon
the shadows lengthened
in tempo and shape
and his eyes were bleeding gloom
and yet he escaped
and returned to home
just to find the shadows did, too
Sunday, July 23, 2023
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The Leaf is a Metaphor
The glorious bronze Sycamore leaf departed from her home in the trees in mid-November She was not the first leaf to leave* so to speak and s...
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A lonesome heron wading in a lake of gold a peaceful sunset He awoke in a wildern wood cool in the morning air and wan... -
The floating leaves strayed from the straight and wrote in cursive across the river's surface. What words were written, ... -
The creek was dark beneath the canopy of trees save for one shaft of sun that lit the stream there like gold I could see on...