Poem -
trees
Hunched over, Haggled
Towering, Green, Giants
Glare down at me
Whispering to the wind
Laughing and Judging
They straighten up
Then slowly but surely
they begin to twirl
whistling past him
they resume their complicated tango with the wind
soon the spinning and twirling comes to a stop
my imagination ceases and goes with a pop
I find myself standing in a forest of pine
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Comments
good imagination good write linda j wright
Wow. I love nature. Your words grabbed me right in the chest, especially "Glare" - I had to stop and reassemble my mind- that one word set the tone for your write and drove home the feelings behind it. Well done. Rebecca