Sunlight filtered through new leaves,
turns my winter skin pale pink,
a hawk throws his shadow,
as raucous crows,
drown out the gentle plashing
of water on smooth stones.
©annettealaine2016
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Sunlight filtered through new leaves,
turns my winter skin pale pink,
a hawk throws his shadow,
as raucous crows,
drown out the gentle plashing
of water on smooth stones.
©annettealaine2016
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INDEPENDENT PUBLISHER OF POETRY BOOKS
Choosing peace through beauty, nature, words.
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a blog about life & being the sh*t
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Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
A literary compass for finding your voice..."You turn toward me, your lips move, wanting to speak."--Stephen Dobyns, "Wolves In The Street"
All things Maud Hart Lovelace, Betsy-Tacy and Deep Valley
Beginning March 20th, 2016 Poetry Breakfast will once again serve a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry related creative non-fiction such as letters to and from poets, essays on poetry, and anything else that might feed a poet and poetry lover’s soul.
Nice images; I can see it all. ~nan