Green Moss Poem by Thomas Plotz

At the top of the rock
The moss is still, but green,
Hibernating

56ft. to the river below,
Waves lap, against the side
As a blue jay cries their lullaby
In the stand of wood,
Stood the soldier song,

The warrior stood raised, and made ready,
With outstretched hands
Not far from the edge, of this land
On the rock of sand

Sleep now green moss
For winter, almost over
Warmth, is coming


T. Plotz
Green Moss
29 JAN 2017