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an old writer and his words

A writer explores the hidden corners of his mind.

Day: August 29, 2018

August 29, 2018

DAWN, AUGUST

They cut neat incisions
across the slate blue sky.
The wounds they leave
slowly peel back
the white edges slowly spreading
until the sky hemorrhages
its cloud-like streaks.
The oak drops
yet another acorn
and the squirrel scampers
to gather it in
before the sky flees
under its gray-white blanket.

Nature, Photography, Poem, seasons, Uncategorized acorn, blanket, change, clouds, dawn, Nature, oak, sky, squirrel 0 Comments

Louis Faber

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