I thought it might be fun to publish some of the poetry I worked on last year during school. None of this has been seen before, all of it is original, some of it I am proud of. This one is titled “thank you W.W.”
Brown, brittle pages float between my fingers
words from Whitman whisper along the pages
telling stories of nature and its wonders
His voice reverberates with ever intricate detail
the world around me comes alive with every breath
of mine
and of his
green leather grasps the words and warms my hands
the whispers cease as I close the doors on the outside world
dead trees leave my cradle for another
we’ll sojourn until the next study
until then I read the words of the world.
I thought it might be fun to publish some of the poetry I worked on last year during school. None of this has been seen before, all of it is original, some of it I am proud of. This one is untitled.
a Gate that always stays open
Trees that stay put and leaves that
change with the seasons
A downhill road that I have traveled before
with friends with lovers with family
the Bridge creaks and crones as I step across it t
he winding Path ahead that takes me exactly where I need to be
When I finish
the Bridge cries out once more upon my exit
the Road is now steep and tiresome the leaves have all fallen
and the Gate stays open
