Writer's Block
A solitary pencil line,
stretched taught
on distant snow.
Cleaves blank sky
from frozen ground.
Gives hope of where to go.
Accidental thought
creates a tree I toil towards
its trembling twigs
find only that I'm lost
and all about me
unspoiled virgin white
except the fading words
from where I've been.
Copyright © Angela Sutherland | Year Posted 2008
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