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Ɨᗁe ɯᗁiƗe paƗᗁ

Lovely poem, lovely photo, evoke memories of my childhood.

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Ɨᗁe ɯᗁiƗe paƗᗁ

 

 

Cedars are heavy with snow.
How the fine fine needles hold.
I know to walk as a lite, warm bird,
–let the snow be cold.

Absurd to walk into first
snows. The cedars, domed, and great firs
know that rare October snows
occur where cones lay among bones.

by Jim Aldrich

All Poetry by RunningSon, aka Jim Aldrich

.namaste.   -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •-   .namaste.

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Categories: Poetry

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Marie A Bailey

Writer, blogger, knitter, cat lover, and introvert.

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