Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2018
the cars on the road
and descends past naked trees
into the field still
dry despite snowmelt water
where she alights and
closes her wings, ruffles her
feathers, and dunks her
head. She drinks. The
wind stirs ripples on the pond.
Then she comes up, bobs,
floats, and dunks her head again
and again with wild
thirst that will not be sated.
Laura Slaathaug
Written by
Laura Slaathaug  North Dakota
(North Dakota)   
273
     Jesse stillwater
Please log in to view and add comments on poems