The Branches On The Tree's, Waving At Me Poem by The Original Tom Maxwell
The Branches On The Tree's, Waving At Me
Ducks flying south east,
Over the leafless tree's,
Changing order and position,
Always regrouping, into a V.
New buds's on bare branches,
Closed so tight,
Waiting for the season of spring,
The suns warmer light.
The invisible wind,
Blowing hard, and free,
As I look out my window,
The branches of tree's, waving at me.
Sunday, September 13, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: beauty,nature
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5/16/2024 11:32:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
