… and that’s OK


no-one ever stays the same 

and that’s ok,

see

we float on rivers

flop over rocks…

 our young women gather

sparkles of silver in their hair and 

waterfalls flow over aging 

shoulders,

the man of granite slopes

into gentle hills  

where little girls pick

wildflowers,

rivers weave us 

into glens where 

sparrows knock leaves out of trees

and little boys whose cheeks are

as red as berries

say she is beautiful

oh yeah

isn’t she lovely

look how she 

flies

6 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s