Trees are ghost outlines,
frost coated.
Far off, along the lake, the train
hoots a melancholy call.
My feet crunch on a path
that was soft yesterday.
I cannot see the sun,
but it is there.
Perhaps things will be brighter
tomorrow?
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- RT @ruralitalics: . gray skies – the twilight in a neighbor's window . 8 hours ago
- RT @VWC_Writes: I will show you how time passes along rivers and paths meant for solitude and the gentle chaos of your mind late autumn b… 4 days ago
- RT @Wyrde: She had grown her rosetta garden deciphering the language of earth somewhere a canyon writes names inscribed on blunt rocks dev… 4 days ago
It’s amazing to think the sun is always there – just beyond the clouds and weather patterns it shines. Parallel ideas – why I love metaphors and nature