On soft feet the children
move on the leaves,
tumbling up the colour

and the waste of warmer days,
I wish we had
forever to cross this place

Dust blue foliage fringing
the rocky edges up from the water.
And air.And history.

Behind you,quickly-
the black cockatoo
plows the tight cold air.

Tweet

Comments on this poem/writing:

Click here to read other Poems by Elizabeth Squires

Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

COPYRIGHT NOTICE: All Rights Reserved.   No part of this website, including all pictures and written words,  may be reproduced or copied in any manner from this website without  permission of the original author of the work.  All poetry and pictures herein remain the sole property of the original author and/or copyright owner.  All poetry on this website has been submitted by the original author of the work. To contact any author of the work please e-mail: dreamer@dreamersreality.com  so the proper person may be notified.