on a bus riding home

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  • Life

    on a bus riding home

    from the window
    in the distance
    a low flying wedge of geese
    a gray winter
    trees striped bare
    frames of other season turn in my mind
    a light breeze stirring the waters on Diamond Lake
    creating small white caps
    the sweet smell of sage
    gently wafting from the high plains prairie
    mountain flowers wet with the weight of summer rain
    glistening in the valley as if they were shellacked
    the scent of Fall
    gold leafed Aspen swaying silently to the song
    of the mountain wind
    frosted white clouds of breath
    hanging momentarily
    before dissipating
    into the crisp cold air
    footsteps crunching through a meadow of snow
    on a bus riding home

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    Teardrops commented on on a bus riding home

    02-05-2011

    I have ridden the big dog and I was just in the pasture with the snow and the trees dancing in the wind . You sir know what the plains feel like in the early spring Marie

    tenderpoison commented on on a bus riding home

    02-03-2011

    beautiful T - your imagery is strong in this one, I could smell the sage :)

    train64

    02/03/2011

    tender thanks so much. I had just left you a note on fp. I posted it there also.. Hope that all is well with you :---) Lane

    Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    train64’s Poems (87)

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