poetry & things

Dumb struck

Red the field flowers, a thousand petals – rain

oak tree meadow’s verdant sway

and too the path I travel

along the lonely hours gained

winding this sacred sojourn

how brief the days stray

light of life that wanes

too quick the verdant sun

green in hills to lay

and I a vagrant

plod such beauty

dumbly

all my

days.

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