water falls as an old man’s beard
which grows down flat to the sea.
a summer trickle leaves hung moss;
a drip makes music like wind bells.
a tree nearby sends leaves as boats
to drift into the setting sun.
Posts Tagged ‘Bell’
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when the wind comes skipping along
its third story sidewalk outside my window,
I can hear the cries of the playground
and the song of the balls on the asphault,
the reminiscent taste of gravel and
the feeling of gripping the chain-link backstops;
the anticipation of recess.
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