The Dance - Poem by Albert Timper
There is a dance growing on the forest floor,
A hemlock and yellow birch entangled ever-more,
Their embrace is straight and strong to the core,
A leaning basswood is cutting in but will not score,
A blanket of snow silhouettes their steps rooted fore,
The dance season will change to coalesce once more.
Comments about The Dance by Albert Timper
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.