Seasons
Poetry is like a river
Always changing currents
Soft, wild, always demanding attention.
October sun fading
Blowing thru golden hair
Windswept streaks on a face.
Never a green leaf whispers
As the sweet smelling flowers drift
Deep into the heart of summer.
I saw spring today
Was an awesome sight
Heaven was open to me.
3/ 5/ 2013 Tues
Copyright © Debbie Duncan | Year Posted 2013
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