Cherita for Childhood
I liked to play by myself
I knew which trees talked,
and which just drank the wind.
The bark scratched my bare legs
as I nestled in their arms
Dryad in crinolines.
©Edwina Peterson Cross
The Dead Poets Society met in a cave to read and share verse. This group is for poets who are very much alive, who have words running, pulsating through their veins. From an outside landscape that can be harsh and barren, we come together in this nurturing, verdant oasis; fellow wanderers, wonderers, sharing our words.
1 Comments:
Fun run, let's keep it up.
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