Comments about T.C. Barnard
The dirt thuds under my feet
Each leg adorned another pounding.
The tethered bushes,
The scuffled rocks,
My eyes bewitched with my surroundings.
The tiptop shines light to the escaping seas,
The balmy air is carried by the seductive breeze.
I've fallen far from the ridden dirt road,
So I turn and make my way back home.