morning poem, December 15, 2017

Brittle cold

The songbirds fold

The fields are silver

The forest old

.

Nothing bends

Not even wind

All quiet now

All gathered in

.

The frozen line

The naked vine

The empty lane

And icy shine.

 

Copyright 2017

This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to morning poem, December 15, 2017

  1. Marit says:

    Lovely poetry. Thanks for sharing 😊

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s