Near the pink-tiled rim of the pond,
opposite the sometimes cascade over scum-covered rock,
the tree stump sits on its side, half-submerged
and catching the orange light along its crags and splits
as, in the frosted spring dawn, students pass by
lost in their thoughts.
see my notes
Comments
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This piece reminds me of Lord Alfred Tennyson's work; it has a metaphysical demeanor. Beautifully executed.
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