Will always listen to cusps of words sread over feathers tucked tightly. My wooden eyes peer threw tree holes, at dancing reeds with thier friends. Silently, tongue can finally open into the crack of morning, before the sun is shinning. Threw all the night I sat and waited for the earth to turn, and portray what I have been feeling.
thanx for checking it out and being honest. i wrote it at the crack of dawn, obviously, so i was pretty weary eyed, and dreamy. i really like your contibution to our mother earth, and i'm a going to read more of your writing, i really like you style, and am glad to hear words that relate to what gives us our breath and our wonder. thank you kindly, redbraids
New Hampshire, USA