RSS Feed

Orchard’s Dream

Orchards dream, too.
They dream through the long night
and into the cool early pocket before day
where birds are busy
talking and talking.

Soon the sun will top the trees
and morning’s cool shade will
sizzle in the heat.

But here.
But now.
Sun filters through the trees,
the orchard glistens and dozes,
half-listening to the insistent birds
who talk only of Now,
and half-dreaming of
men and trees and animals
who passed here before, lingered,
and are gone.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

A Hundred Falling Veils

there's a poem in every day

The Novel Bunch

aka: The Happy Bookers

Red Wolf Prompts

I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"

typewriter rodeo

custom poems on vintage typewriters

A Poet in Time

One Poet's Writing Practice

Writing the Day

A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014

Invisible Horse

Living in the moment

%d bloggers like this: