Poetry from a Time Forgotten : The Renaissance

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

The Renaissance

Sleet forms on branches. Hedges bow to ice. Tree limbs glaze under a new light. The groundhog is folded into full moon inside his burrow. With morning, silence breaks, branches crack, wind combs away sickles from railings and awnings. The grumpy groundhog pokes and ravages through a pile of brush... Sign in to see full entry.

posted by Ariala at 7:29 AM | add or view comments (8) | leave calling card | link to this | view only this entry
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