Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2011
fading mist desperate hands can no longer cling to the rising sun
dew settles as dew does
small deer find tasteful treats between the trees
a rabbit stirs
rays of light hit the lingering souls of water wondering where to go
so they throw a party and invite seven colors to join them.
I unbuckle my pants to **** and just barely miss a flower.
Written by
Christian
672
   Nina McNally
Please log in to view and add comments on poems