The Invasion
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*by Fred D. White*
“Take me to your leader!” It pointed a weapon at my head. I said "Sure, no
problem," and we drove to the White House. Once the panicked...
1 week 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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