Sunday, May 8, 2011


I know to wait
through times
when the white fence
is no more than that

when slatted light
from the young day
is an afterthought

I wait
for the husks to fall
when the worn
becomes new.

1 comment:

Rebekah said...

I love this poem. For me, the branch in the picture resonates with the words to just the right degree.