Sunday, November 18, 2007

Meandering

a Redwood tree grows
straight
into the mist
never questions
where height leads

a river flows
and does not
hesitate
falling over precipice
pooling into the deep
dark emerald
each bend
accepted

1 comment:

Joan said...

Laura, this really resonates with me.
I love this poem.
And I'm so glad you're doing this!
Love,
Joan

 
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