A tree song
sung in the key of winter,
yet there is a melody here.
Her river art
is painted with romanticism,
yet her art is unclassified.
I stand still,
full of longing and sorrow,
yet she cheers me along.

Poetry | Stories | Photography
A tree song
sung in the key of winter,
yet there is a melody here.
Her river art
is painted with romanticism,
yet her art is unclassified.
I stand still,
full of longing and sorrow,
yet she cheers me along.
You run to the creek,
watching the gushing river
from torrential rain.
She sits by the water.
The river moves by as fish take a peek now and then.
“Do they know my broken heart?” she wonders as nature’s carpet touches her feet.
A clumsy fish wiggles toward her then retreats.
A teardrop falls into the river.
The fish swims away.