Branches
Branches
Seasons passing stiffen gnarly fingers
alter once subtle softness of time’s touch
scatter the shady spots of summer’s rest
silence the morning song of empty nest.
Roots, now scattered, take hold in fertile soil
descendants of a fading memory
bloom beneath a distant family crest
await the morning song of new built nest.
1.22.2017
submitted to – A natural metaphor – Poetry contest
Copyright © John Lawless | Year Posted 2017
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