No more angels


There are no more angels hiding
in the poor man's dead bush.
They were hungry sparrows,
winter starved,
waiting for spring's rush,
never confiding in arrows
and, never the less, carved
with wintry knifes
into the thin branches
where snow still reigns
in all aspects
of their feathery lives.




Poetry by Bob
Read 530 times
Written on 2007-02-12 at 01:11

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text


Karen Canning
this one leaves a melancholy note on my lips as I read it, I totally hate winter, I just long for the sun, but I read more than the words offered here

huggs
karenx
2007-03-14