A Piece Of Birch Bark - Poem by Thomas Hooker
I picked up a loose piece of birch bark,
writing nonsense as I carefully study the clouds,
the sky has many shades of gray today,
perhaps the rain will pass this way
as it appears it's raining north of us over the lake.
I use a short pencil I keep in my pack,
the found birch paper holds my random thoughts quite well,
some might call it a poem or free verse,
but capturing the moment isn't always easy.
The blue day behind the clouds,
the layers of gray drifting shapes,
I think the sun may peek through before it rains.
The wind picks up on the beach and waves are noticeably
louder as the surf rolls up further on the sand.
I believe I'll write this down before heading home
as a few big drops start to patter down,
on my head and down on to the sand.
I tuck the birch bark and pencil back into
my small pack and start back up the dune
to the woods path, that will carry me home.
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