Requiem For a Eucalyptus Grove
Fragrance enveloped me
as I stepped
into the enchanted forest.
Dim light filtered
through the canopy.
Brown clusters hung from branches;
dead leaves, I thought,
until I saw
flutters of orange:
I had found
the magical place
where the butterflies gather.
***
The drought
has been merciless.
Trees are white skeletons,
the ground littered with bark.
Sunlight hits the dust.
Where
will the butterflies
sleep?
8/3/2017
Copyright © Agnes Krampe | 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