I ponder, "Does the Earth see through lakes?"
These waters much like eyes
Most of all at sunset
When the loons howl
Their voices echoing for miles
Pouring into my ears
Or when the breeze rustles the leaves, my cloths and hair
when I shiver from the cold
So much so that when night has turned the waters to black
I wonder, "Does the Earth dream when it sleeps?"
And if it does,
I imagine it dreaming of the sky and paddling through space
Like I do
Friday, August 5, 2011
Posted by cascadepoet at 12:12 AM