Friday, May 13, 2011


A nasty fog
With a nasty grip
I feel the tendrils
A chill, a rip
As my heart gets invaded with the fear

A beckoned sun
Rises on its own
I feel the beams
A light, a warmth
Rising up like a great shield

Warming heat
Brightening light
Birth of life
Death of fright
The flower blooms in majesty

K, Duane Carter 5-12-11 

No comments:

Post a Comment