Get Your Premium Membership

My friend, Brigit

In me there is a tried and true reflection of the Green the black, the forest, the damp leaves and the rain in winter. Everyday in the evening, when the dawn breaks- I walk the animal trails to see who came at night, in the dark to eat the corn, the moss, the grass. A stag and three does come every Thursday. I leave carrots, and bones, and roots, and acorns- at dusk- in the morning, forage the wild boars mother and her newborns, with large bullish horns- under the old oaks, abundant in thorn, and ash. I had a dream I sat beneath the moon-tide at noon and Brigit, my bright friend, again was near and dear- We grew up like sisters and parted as such too soon. I see her now once a week; Aye, see and hear how to Know if one's weak know and if one's strong and now how to write one's wronged wrong. Send her a message: Ev re:one needs a better, half recalled. A friend in deed, she comes to console: A shoulder to laugh on, a story already told.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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

Date: 3/2/2014 5:11:00 AM
Nicely written and plus the truth seems to be in this... Enjoyed this piece Daisy :). Verlena
Login to Reply
Date: 1/9/2014 4:11:00 PM
Wonderful well written write. Love the visuals. well done. best wishes. Pete.
Login to Reply