At Waters Morning

a war poem.

The water rippled underneath the sky,

Breathing, whispering in morning’s grey light.

Skipping along the water’s gleaming crest,

Cat tails dance in its glow; it’s waking breath.

A skimpy wooden boat creeps out from reeds,

Native Americans hunt for their needs.

Dragonflies zoom about the water’s shore,

And pond skippers skip across even more.

Birds begin to sing a ballad of song,

Like ears of the wind, words make way along.

Sunshine blooms the beauty of Earth’s petals,

Aromas fill the air, then soon mellows.

My eyes must be closed, give me a shake,

None so beautiful, seen after I wake.

Author's Note

just when you read this, think of Native Americans as beautiful people because i couldn't figure anything else to put in there before it was due. but they are beautiful people. o well it all makes sense.

Reviews

[Dia-EchoingWind]

You put your words to the use of beauty-greatly appreciated on the lines of "A skimpy wooden boat creeps out from reeds,
Native Americans hunt for their needs." I adore it and say thanks for the voice you have given the whole piece.!

[Coyote Poetry]

A beautiful poem. Native American loved the land. Your words brought us into a beautiful story. Get a chance come by and read my The Water, Sky and the Earth. A story of four Native American trying to find their place.
Coyote

[Scarlet Pulse]

Really good imagery. I felt, heard, and saw pretty much everything you were describing. I enjoyed reading it a lot. You made great connections which I never would have thought made sense, but you did a great job!" At Water's Morning" is a wonderful title. Your title even gives the reader an image, which is great.