~
Red sky at sunrise
silhouettes trees,
where one shadow lists
to the freeze
~
inclined to escape
the solid space
~
into airy
freedom
at large.
~
A neighbor’s,
it seems,
to seek,
endeavor,
~
it enamors
for that which it longs.
~
And the birds
sing along
~
in a cold harbored throng –
~
“Come on” “Come on”
~
“Get going along.”
~
~
And when trees leave,
as always they will,
in the fall
to the call
of the wild,
~
all empty nests
will come to a rest
~
upon shards
in the yards
of the child.
~
.
.
.
.
Copyright © 2012 Marvin Loyd Welborn. All Rights Reserved.
Its fabulous….
Your always welcome sir:-)