The Soiled Banner
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*by DW Davis*
Limp, damp, motionless, no longer stirred by the zephyr of freedom, the
flag hangs motionless. Once it fluttered in the breeze, snapped in t...
1 day ago
Weak, tired arms
stretching outward
Cupping the morning dew
on the yard.
Stillness of air
soft as my breath,
Sunlight through the mist
have me bathed.
I could not listen
in a world so uncalm
And could not hear
What my heart truly want.
A countryside
in early morn
Soft and quiet
like a newborn soul.
Labels: Pondering, Quietude, Reckoning, Reflection, Serenity
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