this

the howl fades and the soft sheet of night is yanked away
the wood’s whisper yields to the pink peddle anthesis
again our worn hands greet the sun
again our tired feet turn the earth
this is our stone
this is our hill
this is
and soon it isn’t anymore

Advertisements

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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s