Little Green
Little green
through windowpane,
goes inching up and down.
He travels far,
to distant star,
of orange and golden brown.
The fruit he seeks
on his short trip
has died upon the vine
And yet he strolls
over wood and holes,
in search of sweetest wine.
Copyright © Annette Gagliardi | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment