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 @VWC_Writes: Free was the wind and for a moment I too, felt liberated an anonymous feather (from an old dream of flight) empty of all… 49 minutes ago
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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