the old road
leading back
to resting bales
of fresh cut hay
spoke of time
spent farming...
minnows swam
in the small creek
lined in dancing trees...
the old fence
seemed to move
with the wind..
rusted by time
her fence posts
of weatherd wood
(set by hands
that long ago
grew old and tired)
seemed to be weeping.......
the little road
gently whispered
but i cound not hear
what it was saying....
i felt a passion
to take a picture
to capture
the poetry
that need not
be written..
words
that need not
be said..
1 comment:
Thank you for stopping by my poetry blog. You are really amazing, a creative genius; so organized! I truly appreciate your connection to the earth and our central being. Anyone craving for comfort, just needs to stop by you and your daughter's blogs/sites and feel the love outpouring from God. I have some photo albums, too, online of the country under "New Paltz", "Aqueduct Racetrack", "Buffalo" ... I still have so much to upload; always check back and I will do the same! Well, enjoy:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Sonya.Rose.Photos
Thanks so much for sharing your journey.
Have a warm Thanksgiving with your family.
God Bless ya,
Sonya Rose
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