Wind
roars through the valley,
the leaves cling to their trees,
holding on for dear life.
But the wind is too strong,
and soon they are lost to the storm.
Rain pelts anything reachable,
thunder scares away everything else.
The squirrels hide in their nests,
curled up with eyes squeezed shut.
Terror fills every inch of their bodies
but there is nothing to be done.
Only to wait,
til the storm passes.
The creature peered out from behind a boulder. Its single red eye glinted in the moonlight. There was nothing but darkness where the other eye should’ve been.
Je suis un corbeau avec un plumage noir. J’aime les bijoux. J’aime aller au parc. Je vois une femme avec un collier. Je veux le collier.
Alors, je fondre sur elle et prendre le collier. Je suis un content corbeau!
Now, I know it may seem common, even shallow —
to answer with such a simple thing,
but 'tis what draws my heart —
the Fox, silver fur, dancing in moonlight.
Comments
This poem is perfectly constructed. Not a word feels out of place. You capture a snap shot of a moment... and the wind moving through that moment!
Thank you so much! This is my first published work so that means a lot.
Congratulations on your first publication! I can't wait to read more from you!
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