Logan Fulk Poems
In our hands we have a world of green
So much unknown so much unseen
As thickly woven around as its mysterious ravines
All of this life in a small bean
As serene as dusk as bright as dawn
In its early life as small as a fawn
But as the time goes on and on
It develops thick branches and a trunk with great brawn
Sometimes green sometimes pale
Sometimes flies away in a gale
Sometimes in a storm it flails
And sometimes the delicate life can sail
The lyrical sound better than a lute
Even when the conditions don't suit
This life, the gold, the ...
In a shallow brook
That’s full of leaves.
We read our books
While nature grieves.
When we sit and watch
The trees die tomorrow
Will we ever come to know
of nature’s perpetual sorrow?