Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2019
I close my eyes against the sun
Then barely open them.
A new view comes before me.
Is it reality?
The trees are bare;
Barren limbs against the sky.
Are they reaching for Heaven?
What are they doing?
What are they telling me?
Is this an epiphany
Or a transitory vision
Of trees against the sky?
Bare limbs,
Barren branches.
I close my eyes against the sun.

3/19/19

www.brucelevine.com
Written by
Bruce Levine  New York
(New York)   
66
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems