Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2018
Painter sits down
Strokes sun light dipped in moon light upon fjord.
Crystalline blood blooms from valley.
Bird flys high in the sky.
Wind speaks for the earth.
The waves crash amongst each other like uncontrollable dominoes.
In the forest
Alone are the spirits
Wolves and deer stand restrained by there own silence as the golden sun rises.  
The painter redips his brush.
Written by
CGW  woodinville
   Lure Pot
Please log in to view and add comments on poems