Redtails At Their Feet Poem by James Murdock
Redtails At Their Feet
There is no luxury
which can wrap you
with the feeling of a
homeplace. Soft
as it sits at daylight
and as low as the
moon hangs at night.
Skyscrapers
cannot know the earth.
Or something as far away
as the insects
at their feet.
Their heads must live
in a world, non-existent,
where redtails cry
over forgotten fields.
Friday, September 4, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: farm,forgotten,nature
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5/4/2024 3:23:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
