Small Poems # 9 - Poem by JOE POEWHIT
Silent silver dawn spoke to me.
Years ago, by a crusty sea.
Planted in my memory song.
A quiet place, with rest that's long.
BEFORE THE SNOW
A whisper from the cold gray.
Bone biting cold, naws at my home.
Waiting for a precious moment to start.
Falling angel waves of crystal pearls.
Fuffled whisper in early morn.
Brfore the sun gives its glow.
Mighty bird embraces the new warmth.
Todays snow wet, and very cold.
copyright 1992 POEWHIT
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