Waiting

Day
just there
behind trees,
below the sleeping
hills, hollows and homes
still drift in misty dreams
of fire, smoke, dirt, and lovesongs
and the memory of light, sun
wakes birds to sing, hearts to lift, soft winds
to play sweet green music with new-formed leaves.

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About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
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2 Responses to Waiting

  1. wvgcj says:

    Again, another one.
    I do so love your poetry.

  2. grannysu says:

    Thank you. It is good to know someone reads it 🙂 I haven’t been writing much but I hope to pick it up again in April for NaPoWriMo. That usually gets me motivated.

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