Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2018
There is a path through the trees
Where the stream tumbles into the lake
The sound of water mingles with the trees
And the water mingles with reflections of trees
I walk alone under the pale winter sun
I alone walk under the pale winter sun
/
I am a traveler
The wind sweeps leaves into the lake
The trees sway gently in the wind
I am a traveler
The path is familiar but I have not known it before
The wind makes ripples on the lake
I am a traveler
I am wandering in a place familiar that I never knew
The trees are still swaying
/
Man made an arch out of the earth
Brick by brick, it rose to the level of the trees
This is where the old house stood
Even though everyone is gone, and the house is gone
I must make sure everyone knows, here goes
The arch is crumbling into earth again
The arch is crumbling back to earth again
/
I am a traveler
Breathe in, eyes closed
The path stops short up ahead
A pale white film is covering the sun
The trees shine softly because it’s winter
And the world is new
Yves C Sutherland
Written by
Yves C Sutherland  19/M/VA
(19/M/VA)   
56
   Fawn
Please log in to view and add comments on poems