04-21-2016, 12:42 AM
Outside the hum and buzz
close crowded clicking
of katydids
Under the dry
light of the forest
flowers are motionless
unmoving
like stationary pinwheels
The wild trees
bare of leaves
seem like insomniacs
It is near dawn
I stand in the dirt
shifting from foot to foot
knowing the end
will be nothing like this
close crowded clicking
of katydids
Under the dry
light of the forest
flowers are motionless
unmoving
like stationary pinwheels
The wild trees
bare of leaves
seem like insomniacs
It is near dawn
I stand in the dirt
shifting from foot to foot
knowing the end
will be nothing like this
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
