Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2019
the smell of petrol engine and cut fresh grass
wet now from cloud fall
-the Sparrows brood new feathered
sit all along the Willows branch.
Soon leaves will discolour and be shed
leaving skeletal remains reaching up to the sky
clasped prayer of supplication..
please! the Sun soon return!
Written by
nivek
81
     Bobby Copeland, Crow, --- and Jim Timonere
Please log in to view and add comments on poems