Poems from wildwise
the simple wheatgrass
a brittle monument to the passing of summer
and that endings can be beautiful.
i am suspended in empty space.
groping...
what worlds are held inside a drop of morning dew? i clutch onto the memory of laying in the wet grass, squinting at those little drops....
the sandy shores are calling me.
from my mindless toil, from my vacant lot in this buzzing, concrete kingdom - to the wind rushing through...
the stars twinkle for her
the moon seems to smile at her gaze
the sun is inspired to shine a little brighter
and the rain softens when she...
the howling wind
a blinding crack of white
splitting through the night sky.
stinging raindrops began pelting the ground;
the small bird dug...