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Heart-wood Ghosts |
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There is a grove of ancient cypress hidden from the tar, whose ancient trunks breath with the winds that travel from afar. There, strength is held in silence and their life-glow fills the meadow, but here and there you feel a hole where, Half-hiding 'hind the columns of the years they've strong endured, is a sadness that their number shrinks; this, through the winds they've heard. I sit and marvel at the glow, in extinction they're still giving, and the ghosts of chain-cut trees fill the spaces 'tween the living. | |
| - k. a. g. - | |
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| writings even though words can often be misunderstood, it is still one of the best ways to get a point across. i try to use more artistic styles where interpretation creates thought. for more info on my writings, email the address below. writings@boldseed.com |
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