Rowan - Poem by Leslie Philibert
Tough-wood and feather
half in flight;
bent as a dark fork.
The late of the year
spots her with blood berries
crouching against the wind.
The blasted daughter of high North,
a tryst with the harsh sleet,
dark as the night`s splinter.
Comments about Rowan by Leslie Philibert
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.