Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Find the river where you find the trees, past the flatland past the sleepy town beyond the gold wall a trail of silver leaves will lead you down the bank Find the faint smell of mud and the stirring of naked branches prickly dead grass and trees littering the slope— Some cracked and white and crooked most brown and brittle and all of it wild and weaving and spinning a web of shadows A crow may caw and fly into the blue A red squirrel may scavenge in the dirt and skirt up the tree and pause in the crook and watch you watching it A tall cottonwood may creak as you trespass under it’s hooked branches and you’ll find it its tarnished silver rippling curving and swelling like a snake biding its time
0
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
Down the Slope
Find the river where you find the trees, past the flatland past the sleepy town beyond the gold wall a trail of silver leaves will lead you down the bank Find the faint smell of mud and the stirring of naked branches prickly dead grass and trees littering the slope— Some cracked and white and crooked most brown and brittle and all of it wild and weaving and spinning a web of shadows A crow may caw and fly into the blue A red squirrel may scavenge in the dirt and skirt up the tree and pause in the crook and watch you watching it A tall cottonwood may creak as you trespass under it’s hooked branches and you’ll find it its tarnished silver rippling curving and swelling like a snake biding its time
National Poetry Month Day 24.
lslaathaug
Written by
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 9:39 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem