Sunday, July 15, 2012

In Columbia's Gorge

wind pushes the tree
limbs hover the riverbed
while crooked roots reach
the hills wait in silence
peering through sinking clouds

2 comments:

  1. Such a suggestive, imagist poem. I love its open-ended intimation.

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  2. Brian, you've pointed to directions I did not know the poem was going. I like that. I hope I can write poetry that will appeal to the reader's own perspective.

    Thank you!
    ~Kay

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