Willow Winds
Willow winds,
Whipping at my skin,
The aroma of raspberry and dew,
Frosted air misted with fingers of fog,
Patiently firm in a field of moss,
Deep shade and such silence one never expects,
But for calm wave of flushed hanging bough,
So welcome,
Enlightening peace rushes over my ocean,
Vast and open,
And seeing stars drift away from the sky in my mind,
I slip away,
One with the soil of the Earth.
Copyright © David A. Cain | Year Posted 2015
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