Open Poetry #48 |
![]() ![]() |
the wetlands |
![]() ![]() ![]() |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
I woke up in the middle of the night with her eyes just far enough to the wetlands where they buried the wolves skin The wild road that carried the trees farther away the small line that use to divide the night and sky weeped as it lost its way This place of ours where we call home it touched the bark of the trees until the dangling lanterns lost their light that night With a sheepish smile that chided the wetlands the strangers from the west, mum, where the loss of silence draws over the land we are all the same for the words that are spoken are no longer a part of the night We call this place home where the rosebuds fall over one another for the hairs on the back of our necks bristle when we lose our footing lose our place on a grass too far from home Too far for the signs of memories that use to weave in and out of our childhood fantasies Its here we call home on each corner of the wetlands Roots of trees as our witnesses and the silence protruding the uneasiness for were all the same here Here, the home of the wetlands |
||
© Copyright 2013 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Tomer, this exquisitely beautiful stream of consciousness walk on the wild side is yet another perfect melding of yours of nature and the human condition. Owl |
||
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Owl- Happy you enjoyed the combination. Appreciate the comments, as always. Take care. Cheers Tomer |
||
![]() ![]() |
⇧ top of page ⇧ |
![]() ![]() ![]() |
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |