Raindrops sparkling in the sun’s slow rise,
sprinkled like stars across the dark green leaves,
sky still heavy with the sleep of trees…
shouldered aside by dripping roofs,
the world they wake to –
is it all that they dreamed?
Another poem from the North Shore Magazine vault.
2 thoughts on “The Sleep Of Trees”
A question we could all ask…
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Indeed! Thanks for that, Bob!