MONOCHROME
Just a week ago the land was a wrung out cloth
streaked gold through the olive damp This week it is a bleached sheet heads of
wheaten grass shimmering champagne and silver with each breeze I have only just
left the ghost of winter behind Everything is opposite
a guitar shaped leaf
a bird raising its wings
its downy underside
its second cast shadow
the ghost of winter
winter is tossed into the air, summer falls
ReplyDeleteThis photo and the poem sing together beautifully
ReplyDeleteI love this
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