Urbanization by Dakota Pizzi
Theres a house of Fallen Timber,
Not far from me or you,
That flourished once in the summer When the sky was Golden hues.
Its been trampled down by the people of hardened stone,
Who are cold to nature's many unknowns.
So they chop away and burn it down As gray clouds fill the sky,
And what's left of her majesty the forest,
Is nothing but my lonely sigh.

Winter's Song:
  Wind whipping through my hair,
White fluff swirling without care.
Icy flakes, descending snow
bustling people saying "lets go!".
  I  feel the freedom, all it brings.
The silence of snow, how nature sings!
And I will sing along,
For sure we all know this song.
The symphony of peace on white canvas
To which life choreographs all its dances.
And in that easy light of winter snow,
I sat by the candles, feeling their warm- amber glow.

Pages: by Dakota Pizzi

We are nothing more,
than words on lined paper .
Who are you,
A poem, a sonnet?
In pencil or permanent?
I find myself to be in script.
Looping ups and downs,
But persistent.
Like threading wires chained along the sky along the winding road,
Meant to be moving ment to keep going.
Meant to say what I say,
And be as permanent as ink,
But never looking back across my many pages.