Cabin
The wind stopped for the forest.
My palms plump to the calm.
The silence I'd not spoken
in waiting for my qualm.
With air that's thin to cooling.
made fresh from in the Pines.
The scent of sap that's dripping
their place within the shrines.
The cabin here for comfort
surrounded by the trees.
Protected from the outside
that inside comes to please.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment