The Forest of Shadows and Clouds
I drive through the forest of shadows and clouds,
thinking out loud, about the wings of buzzards
that flap up and down through springtime leaves.
I saw three in flight. I’m deft as I creep in my car.
A meander of curves on this country bumpkin nook.
Mysterious and lovely, this living ghost of trees.
The hawks diminish its size, provoke the darkness.
I imagine the mean old apple trees and ruby slippers.
I coin it The Yellow Brick Road when I drive the kids.
It’s what is left when the rest of the land’s been developed.
It is a scary and pretty walk, dangerous and playful.
I breathe life through the confiture of this unspoiled remnant.
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.
