Friday, May 4, 2012

Landscape Poem: Middle Frame


A path of early spring grass,
bright green growth patched with brown.
Eyes follow it straight through the sunlight,
up an incline into the shade,
where it twists away out of sight.

The wide green belt is littered with pinecones,
which smell like fresh-cut wood when you get close enough,
while a few thick branches slink across like snakes.

The trail is bordered by a wild brush,
Some strong healthy tree trunks reach up,
surrounded by pricker-bushes,
a wild nest of sticks,and a kind of bush
sporting the tiniest beginnings
of new-spring buds.

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