Tree Outside My Window

All I did was sit and stare

The gray sweeps,

through the 2 p.m. sky

swiftly to lighter

and darker shades.

 

Bare branches,

linked and shaken,

point to their solemn end,

thinned from thickness.

 

A glow of patience flares,

and silently drifts

divine and endless

from their eye’s skin.

 

Through blue or gray

they stare and stay

in place, staring at fate,

like me, toward the sky.

Author's Note

This is, oh, the sixth poem I've written in the past 24 hours. I'm in one of those moods...

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

there is something chilling - almost macabre about this poem. the bare branches....the fixed stare....well done.

[Kara Emily Krantz]

haha i want one of those moods!! obviously you were in your own place in your head, where little things were a little bit brighter, clearer. :) i loved the simple title, this was very well done :)

[Hold Fast Hope]

This is really good. I wish I could write like this.



Keep up the good work.

[Kelsie :]]

ya i get into those moods haha. but i never wrote 6 in that time period i wrote 4 tho. i like it alot...u took a very simple object and made a beautiful poem out of it :)

[Kelly Scheppers]

I get those "spurts" sometimes, too! Isn't it frightening, sort of? You wonder where it's coming from, then all of a sudden, you're smack in the middle of "writer's block", with no end in sight. [ hmmm, that's just as frightening! ]

I love writings of trees, of nature, and rain....you've penned this so well, Travis! Very impressive work!

[No One Important]

You have a gift for imagery and detail I do not regularly see. I can almost see the view from your window and hear the wind and smell the air. Marvelous!!