Dialogue of Place
Should I whisper words
that hang on memory’s peaks,
cumulous across my forehead?
A world of words - connected
like tides to the moon.
Words that mingle and rise,
as mist from a valley
or, dwell in half forgotten dreams;
endless as ocean waves,
or vistas of flowering fields.
Beautiful words
that tell me of my place.
Suzanne Delaney
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2015
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