nature poetry
An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Day three on the farm.
Day three on the farm. Or maybe day four. Pretty quickly you stopped counting, because it doesn't really matter. You're picking gooseberries again. The scratches from the thorns are like badges of honor, or perhaps they are the start of a sentence that might reveal some deeper truth to you one day, if you dig deeply enough-- and repeatedly-- into the momentarily painful bramble at the center of the bush: where the fruit still somehow flourishes, right at its heart.
By Sarjé Haynes6 years ago in Poets
