Thursday, August 8, 2013

butter sounds...

Poetry
The Lubec morning
Meadowlark
Awake
Quiet
Flowers

A gull

A goldfinch in the feeder again
A scroll written on a porch post
Butter sounds
And pickup trucks winding their way to the water

A crow

A dog barks
And slowly the meadowlark stretches
For
The
Run

And
Violas play again in a town without pity


*written August 6.