Jessie Michaels Poems

There's something special about the wee hours of morning in a city.
When one walks out the door to a muted rumble,
A cool coastal mist,
Glides across plains of pavement
...

A raven sat upon a branch
That reigned above a golden field
Where sunlight lent a golden hue
To yellow grass which swayed and swooned
...

There is a place where I once sat as I
Journeyed to an unknown land.
And though perhaps I'd rest awhile
In the shade of a tree with a strange new fruit.
...