The moon is full
The sun is near
Dead of winter, and
No one is here
Only us
And a handful of others, were
Brought inside the fence
At dawn
The hills are green
The plains are vast and
Empty
Empty for miles
Empty for centuries
Ancestors whisper
Acknowledge our presence
Magical Stonehenge
Embraces us with arms
Fully extended.
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Fun to see you write in this form! This has a wonderful rhythm, the short lines, the repetition. And there's something really lovely about the line 'Brought inside the fence.' (Maybe I'll use it as a prompt...)
ReplyDeleteThis if wonderful, Judy. You rock the poetic verses!
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