deepundergroundpoetry.com
Momentary
.
Before the cattle cry; the low vibrant call
from open pasture to lucky wooden barn.
Still making shadows, finding the moon
sitting proud, not for sinking beyond the
horizon just yet, as the frost with its
beguiling truth of what lie ahead on this
winters morn, before the breath seen
from fellow travellers yawn.
Before the cattle cry; the low vibrant call
from open pasture to lucky wooden barn.
Still making shadows, finding the moon
sitting proud, not for sinking beyond the
horizon just yet, as the frost with its
beguiling truth of what lie ahead on this
winters morn, before the breath seen
from fellow travellers yawn.
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