There is more of summer
than winter, when I open my eyes to see
the sun in all its wondrous brightness
lighting up the trees,
that I wander beneath, most days,
finding places to sit and think
while leaves flutter green against the sky
and my bare back rests on bark,
touching stories no one’s told,
sending my mind singing outwards
to wrap around every branch and bud
and bring the beauty from the ashes
like joy springs out from love.
A contest entry
- prewrite shebang; by epitome.
400 points, ended October 23, 131 entries
• next poem in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
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