PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I soulfully comprehend
the burl of birch so thin
winter morning after rain
gusting winds round-about

the truth be broken
inner heaven bent and fallen
age of winter often looks like that.

Folding snow, the shunning sun
a place bereft of dignity
a lingering

I just can't shed the ache

of this weighted branch
A lonely song would hope
you hear my cry,

the drift and shudder
of mockingbird's shame
I cannot carry his shifting song

for very long