I'm back with an original inspired by my recent travels in South Carolina. I have missed Poetry Friday tremendously.
Spanish Moss
by Nicola Turner
There is no meaning
in the coming
and the going
of waves on the shore, they are automatic
But, the tern dives
with such precision
And the pelicans perform
breathtaking summeraults
My thoughts are weighed down by you
lightly
like lace curtains, or Spanish moss on live oaks
Beautiful in their mourning veils
filtering the sunlight
Round up is at http://insearchofgiants.blogspot.com
Friday, July 4, 2008
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1 comment:
How sweet and sad. I really like the last five lines. Welcome back!
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