The PathA Poem by MikeThe lady was lush in summer. She put verdant crowns on sentinels of oak and elm, hemming my path to the sea. In Fall, she painted their tops with her artistry. Of a winter, her arms glimmered, ice girded above sparkling carpets, while her fertility rested, beneath frozen cathedrals where she dreamed the coming spring. © 2023 Mike |
Stats
129 Views
1 Review Added on August 26, 2023 Last Updated on November 2, 2023 |