Bridge to My Home Town

Distant, barking dogs

Blue smoke rises from chimneys

The air tastes vibrant


Long grass turning green

Fields where loves were found and lost

A sparrow takes flight


Crescent moon hangs low

In the undergrowth, a fox

Cries out – then silence


Morning dimmed by mist

Crossroads overgrown with weeds

Lonely winds pass by


Valley of my dreams

A world opens as I sleep

Bridge to my home town




This entry was published on January 25, 2013 at 5:54 PM. It’s filed under Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

write the fox

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