Poetry

Spooktown, 23 (297.)

They are usually the trees
who give me pause,
tall, handsome sentinels
with growing on their minds.
And in their frames.
Would that I could
be more like a tree,
getting stronger
and better
every day,
while doing good things
for, well, everyone.
Gotta put out roots first
and grow from somewhere,
I suppose.
So here goes, it’s me –
channeling a tree.

Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s