Let the silence press;
Enveloping,
Like a rising dough filling a bowl.
Until the gentlest breeze
Creates the worst racket,
Your own growling stomach,
Tribal drums
And the tentative hoots of an owl
A circus parade.
© TDR – 2018
Let the silence press;
Enveloping,
Like a rising dough filling a bowl.
Until the gentlest breeze
Creates the worst racket,
Your own growling stomach,
Tribal drums
And the tentative hoots of an owl
A circus parade.
© TDR – 2018
Reblogged this on The Pittsburgh Stories.
Thanks for reading and the reblog, Guy.
Gorgeous photo. Peace to you. Your poetry is well done.
Thanks, Audrey.