pan fried tators,
grilled trout,
cool clear spring water.
smoke rising slow,
the coffee starts to boil.
black crows circle,
eyes down in the brush.
clouds chasing forever,
nowhere else to be!
night fall coming,
you can feel the trees whisper.
mountains in the distance,
nod without a word.
curl up together
to the crackle of the fire.
while the old dog watches
for the end of the world!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poems are soooooo beautiful and awesome