|
| |
Northward
Legs freeze and numb, held still from south to north
The touch of ants crawling upon my skin
Should I go back or should I still go forth
For, faraway's the place where I have been
Up the wild trail, devious and swirling
Thrilled soul dares to brave the bite of cold
For silver moon there is made of sterling
The gorgeous sunshine glows in shade of gold
*To my fans, don't make wild judgmental guess of my poems' interpretations, even my other poems. It's only me who knows the true meaning of my poems. It's free to read them if you're interested, if not, you have the liberty not to. This site is for lovers of poetry, not for haters.*
January 3, 2024, PST, SP-BC
Copyright ©
R. B. Cawis
|
|