Cordon

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Driving around a slow curve on Ft. Dix, NJ, I was greeted by lines of long branched pines waving in the wind. Two vultures hovered over their feast, and the sounds of the wind and misty sunlight inspired me to write.

Cordon 1 Wide Pine Corridors Lined Up Soldiers Green waving Arms, With the wind Celebrate my Coming. Their Bowing Salutes Returned With Snap. 2 Behind the Roiling Files, Soaring Black Wingmen Peel Off In Spirals Flaring Upon Flesh …Warm Carrion. Lumpy Low Clouds Mist Ore the Trumpeter’s Blare. 3 Lush Green Carpets Stretching To The Sun Lay Down At My Approach. Their Shiny Straight Blades Glow White Like the Stones Lining My Passage.

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Kevin Lawrence

Date: 7/22/2018 5:21:00 AM

Help, poets. Is this too morose?