Night Walk

mixed with
night-coloured grass
green-Spring disguised
by darkness

sweet-smell of soil
allowed to renew itself
mysterious under
dying suns

no streetlamps
or countless
flourescent houses
to disappear
our natural glorious
our torches
outside of fire
that help us
only what we need….

©April 2011 by Phyllis J. Hanniver


About pjh95811

I am a writer and poet living in California. I love cats, dogs, nature, poetry, spirituality and the Pacific Ocean.
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