The cry of the stork echoes
from the cold cliff where the mist
is clearing for an hour or two
this winter morning
so that when nature has found a place
among the stones at the edge
of this broad slow river
for this empty
Coca Cola bottle
it may catch the sunlight
between the clear water and wet stones
and find itself beautiful
the eye sees all and leaves the poet with the truth of absolute sight and indeed that shape in light could twist the heart into beauty even without intent a fine poem
Poets find beauty among all things. Lovely, Michael. Raynette
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I could see this glimmering in the water Michael.....very lovely poem. Sincerely, Mary