an old poem by me, "wild grasses"

their stare seems as if it were a foreign land, rustic coats wearing in dark and cold.

jumping children, light surrounding.....light enveloping, new and different and dangerous, but silly, children playing in spheres of white.

as wild grasses play under the tall, sleepy trees, i remember looking at the green, beautiful leaves and thinking they were perfect. they were happy and giggling.

a princess, playing in a play, pouring shakespeare from a dream.

winter and bears, cotton horses and water rippling with beams and glistenings.

winter and windows and light and memories.

and grey shadows, quiet

grey

shadows 

by Debbie Schramer