Get Your Premium Membership

Wearing the Green

Under a fading Celtic moon, half a coin left over from last night, my sheep are feasting on pasture lush and wild with turkeys’ wings. A titmouse chick-a-dees from an oak that’s spring-fresh green. On hands and knees, I harvest Indian lettuce for a salad. Do sheep wonder at my human foraging? I’ll come back home wearing colors of the field, muddy knees grass-stained; I’m hungry to savor my tiny isle of green.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2012




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: 2/16/2012 6:05:00 PM
Taylor, green is my mean... lol.. favorite color.. i can imagine that celtic moon... I truly enjoyes this poem... 5 times... adding this to my favorite poems..this was a very xool poem to read... thank you for sharing...always~ ;-) PD
Login to Reply