Posted on 24 October 2018
by J.S. Graustein
Galley The oak sails before the wind, going nowhere. Its first autumn leaf picks the lock on its manacles, escapes: One more illusion of freedom. Lauds (2) A penitent crow puffs up and shudders, lifts his wings as the sun rises, letting light…
Category: poem, WrittenWordWednesdayTags: autumn, california, crows, don thompson, ecolinguistics, Fall, folded word, nature, oaks, poem, Poetry, quatrains
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