What is a poem?
Well, a poem is a song.
What song?
A lullaby, and the lyrics are your dreams.
A poem is the river rushing, carrying thoughts and words.
A never ending sky, and the caw of a lonely bird.
Moonlight, starlight. A child's laugh, a grown man's tear.
Inspiration, Imagination.
But what makes a poem?
You.
My heart breaks
For every snowflake
That twirls down,
Solitary
Amongst a gray sky
It looks lonely, you see
Not as if I don’t know how that feels.
A tree is downed in the forest
It appears as a skeletal hand resting upon the snow covered floor
Brown beneath, like ivory rotting away as it ages
And pure white on top, bone bleached by the sun.
I’ve started looking forward to the little things a little more
Than I look forward to next year
Because it feels like next year is uncertain.
I’m excited to eat peanut butter toast in the car before skiing,
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