Trees have opened up
birds anxious, fretting in the August
leaves.
A cow bawling in a distant field.
Back door screen door slams
a dog barks.
The gate at the end of the road has
been dragged through the rich red mud.
Cold clear water laps over the edge of
the well
Into the long green grass.
Faces fading
like the mist in the early morn
filling the empty sky.
No comments:
Post a Comment