In the early morning mist that tree stood
aflame with light,
calling us
to rhyme
and
shine.
Even
if the path’s
unclear and our
rhythm almost gone, poetry remains.
JDG
In the early morning mist that tree stood
aflame with light,
calling us
to rhyme
and
shine.
Even
if the path’s
unclear and our
rhythm almost gone, poetry remains.
JDG