Pages

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Goodnight

The frost is heavy in the air,
but snow has gone away.
Every tree is bony and bare.
The dock is cold and slippery.

The skies light fades as the sun waves goodbye,
and stars will soon come play.
A crow lets out a cry and flaps its wings away.

In warm cozy houses families come to gather,
and wash away the daily rays of sadness deep inside.
After all the lather, they turn off the lights and peer ouside then quietly quietly, whisper
Goodnight.

No comments:

Post a Comment