Loving Contemplation
A tall stranger sounds outside the window.His roots are deep; his bark is bitter.
A thousand leaves, each one a feather,
Frolick in dance with the cool-wind weather.
A dark hued leaf dances passionately.
His grace is tender; his dance is sweet.
By night, he'll crumble beneath my feet.
To love bark, to love a leaf, to love is bittersweet.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.