Spring poem, more distraction.
Aspen Drift
The downy seeds of aspen drift,
Dancing across the evening sun on
The wind from silvery shivering-leaved poplars,
Threaten to clog my mind full
From now till summer’s final winds
Sweep them out:
Stuck in the simple act of observation
Until autumn.
Posted on April 16, 2014, in Ecology, Uncategorized, Writing and tagged aspen, autumn, ecology, fall, poem, poetry, poplar, seasons, spring, summer, writing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Leave a comment
Comments 0