Lost the steel, concrete and wrought,
refined gives way to damp.
Cool and crisp, air’s lost its “friends”,
just how it should be.
Fingers dig through cool earth
fresh, clean, dripping.
Outside, beyond, free;
finally.
Glancing up, light appears,
pale, filtered green.
New leaves have that tendency,
making spirits free.
Slight warmth,
as tinted dawn embraces me.
back...
poetry copyright 2002 fireflyhotaru, so dont steal! it's bad! OK you freaks? hey, who you calling freak....FREAK! (oh no the voices are talking to me again....you better watch out they don't seem to like you much......)