tagNon-Erotic PoetryMercedes Benz

Mercedes Benz


My dear girl Boo
I think of you
as days are ticking loud,
hours barely, trees are lace
the clouds weave smoky grey
with blue. I must embrace
my memory, gather apples,
breathe, give thanks for

You are with the orange
leaf, the cardinal, a clutch
of feathers, beads, every bit
bred in the land a bravery
of solitude and gratitude,
a tender helping hand.

Your stories live among the words.
The woods are singing, birds are
never quiet. Even in the breaking
light of dawn their song goes on.

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byAngeline© 4 comments/ 1925 views/ 1 favorites

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