From Across the Straight
Rain casts valley shadows
Where the line between dark and light
Is distinct and infinite
Thin vapours of sunshine border the distant range
What appear as clouds are now only dreams
The wind blows gently
Fourteen shades of grey hide reality
Spires stand above, alone, telling half truths
A break in the weather, the storm slumbers
One single note plays from a distant piano
The voice hints that dreams can come true
The wind blows gently
Spent leaves drift silently downward
From green treetops that once held promise
Knowing that there is still another chance
To prove reinvention is possible
Without a moments hesitation
The wind blows gently
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
