While we wait along the shores,
Our boat floats and tries once more,
This flood don't flounder us we saw,
Submerge to forget what we came for,
We'll hear the wails from all that matters,
Silence from the watery woods that once chatters,
Our desperate trails now deep, they shine,
Clouds of a sky, that's no sunlight a sign,
Cattails move to the breeze and whisper to the willows,
Who has drowned the aspens?
And they did say, no one knows,
Cottonwoods speak up of a tale,
They will denounce Pitt River and tell,
Now along the coasts with ghostly flutters,
Lands so far, calls loud along with others that mutter,
Snow geese flock from the north too feed,
Some calls to cull these beauties don't please,
They're protected and that's how it should be,
Cattails whisper softly, for winter sent them free.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment