deepundergroundpoetry.com
Yosemite With No One There
(quatern)
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
That scale the walls of granite sheers,
And signal lights of coming night,
As wolves partake with no one near.
How swift the gentle brooks presume,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
How quick the trout, the falls resume,
How soft the eagle’s thermal flights.
In every corner, bears ignite,
In falling sun on meadows’ waves,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
The snowy shelfs that winter saves.
Yosemite, with no one there,
Just owls and coyotes prowling night,
And Nature brings it full aware,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
That scale the walls of granite sheers,
And signal lights of coming night,
As wolves partake with no one near.
How swift the gentle brooks presume,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
How quick the trout, the falls resume,
How soft the eagle’s thermal flights.
In every corner, bears ignite,
In falling sun on meadows’ waves,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights,
The snowy shelfs that winter saves.
Yosemite, with no one there,
Just owls and coyotes prowling night,
And Nature brings it full aware,
From whispered gifts on eyrie heights.
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