The last ice melts
and beneath the morning sun
the pond is calm.
Oak and grasses lean into
the murky water and
squirrels run through dried leaves.
On my way to the trail
winding through the forest
a silent existence.
The last ice melts
and beneath the morning sun
the pond is calm.
Oak and grasses lean into
the murky water and
squirrels run through dried leaves.
On my way to the trail
winding through the forest
a silent existence.
I like this poem so peaceful. xx
Thank you Willow, I’m happy that came across in the simple words.
It did 😉