Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Poem - The Moan of the Pine

the almost silent moan of the pine
passed to the excited sycamore
it’s leaves flapping
with news of the wind
and so to the garrulous ash
half dead leaves reanimated
rushing off cackling and cracking
dancing in swirls and twirls
like old ghosts no one fears


at my old place I had these pines and late on a moonlit night the ghosts gather...

By Drax Ireland