Front Porches Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Front Porches
Hearing voices calling from front porches in a small town,
where I was born.
Loving it's surrounding peaceful forests of beauty.
Footsteps falling on dry, crumpled leaves that have fallen
to the ground, all in a winter storm.
Transparent trees, stripped of their essence, standing naked
in the snow.
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
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4/25/2024 10:32:14 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I like porches too. Thanks for sharing