Wind Whistling Through the Trees
Wind whistling through the trees
Reminds me of the tiny piccolo,
High-pitched obbligatos, ranging free
Wind whistling through the trees, blow
The subtle sounds of spring’s arrival.
Wavering tremolo, shimmering limbs
Marked by winter storms for survival,
Voices of ten-thousand sacred hymns
Humming like soft Gregorian chants,
Lingering briefly in the crown’s apse
To gather all its sacred sycophants,
Trembling in rapt reverence, perhaps,
Until the breathy calm reverberates
And moves beyond the sycamore
While I pause alone to contemplate
The crystalline tones, wanting more.
Written March 8, 2022
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2022
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