1025

FROM MY BACKYARD

Late dawn, under a clearing sky,

I listen to bird whistles in my backyard.

Orange streaks, and linings silver, why,

There is every reason to gasp.

For morning has reached a clearing sky.

Hope smiles as moon lingers;

Orbits imagination to another try,

At authorship of cloud ocean and forest.

Wheels of toil, how they grind oh my.

Continuation whirls like everlasting;

To new day, under a clearing sky,

© gillena cox 2023

NOTE
How to construct The Fold Poem HERE and HERE

BLOG HOPPING TODAY WITH

 Poetics: Poetry of Place and Space

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