Poem Body
Stark among the lush of youth
tall, unashamed
no leaves twirl downward
no fertile blanket of rot
to feed saplings
fresh with green sprigs.
Many seasons
they have tasted your nourishment.
Do they regard your wisdom
whispered in the mountain breeze?
Do they believe tales told of
life on the hill,
of cycles of torrents, droughts,
penetrating frosts and mountains
of drifted snow?
Do they devour the lore
falling among the leaves?
Comments
Dead Trees
Do they devour the lore
falling among the leaves?
I like your questions posed to your reader on this metaphoricaly written poem Vex, Just want to say hello to you and wonder where you flew off to? Hope all is well in your neck of the wooded forest.
Blessings
Mona
Devour the lore falling with Autumn leaves...nice
Thank you
I’m glad you like this work. I’ve not been on line much of late and not been inspired or creative. I’m not sure I understand what it is you want me to do with this poem. Who is Weirdelf?
We all are now
like dead trees
but still seemingly alive
in forests
no more of trees
but concrete
they call it
cement and steel
ain't it?
that's all are we
you and me