written Sept. 12, 1997
Gently fallen leaves
Broken amputated pieces of the trees
What stories they must tell!
Way up high
In the clouds--
Staring down on the world
Like a majestic queen.
What might they say?
Breezes thick with poison--
Cool drink from the sky burns...
Gently fallen leaves
Scarred--
Gently they fall in the poison breeze,
Whispering their tale to me...
What stories they must tell.
2 comments:
Anita this is so lovely! Thank you for posting it!
I'm glad you liked it, Jill :o)
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