A hint of a face made of knots.
Is it wonder or awe or angst that it shares?
Could it be a wooden reflection?
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
Where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry.
A hint of a face made of knots.
Is it wonder or awe or angst that it shares?
Could it be a wooden reflection?
9/21/11 (‘ku 4 u)
where branches once grew
holding onto living dreams
autumn came – they fell
JP/davh