Poem Category: All

The scent of Pines …
stooped in the clearings
spotless skies.

Curve of a rainbow
the lisp of the child
counting the colours.

One star
in their minds
guiding geese.

In far away hills
whistling
the wheat train’s descent.

Midnight
tomcat re-scenting
the scent of the dog.

As sun sets ,
the ones I missed
weeding the garden.

Blue baby eyes
his mother’s milk
composing a burp.

Down the light , down the river
returning geese
cry out.

Clear again
the rainbow
connecting hills.

On the wall of graffiti
we pass at lunch,
nearly perfect … a blue orchid.