Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Winter Park

 He walked alone down a trodden path,

Into an empty park.

He sank onto the snowy bench cushion.


 Did he notice the sun reflecting off granite crystal specks and tiny ice mirrors?

Did the jagged melt line and cold white caterpillar fascinate him?



















As he stood and climbed the path toward home, did he see the sun shining through the window of baby aspen and grand evergreens into the afternoon winter sky?

2 comments:

  1. Poetry and photography are a nice combination. A way to make a book.

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  2. Wow I like! :D It makes me think of what I was TRYING to do with my poetry on my blog...but it didn't come out as well as this :) I miss you guys! Does Hannah have a blog? Lots a love! Lisa <3

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