I did not hear the lightening
break, splitting the tree in half.
Yet there, half of him lies,
white leafed, a fluid embroidery
cloud covering the road, hued
by the street lamp light.
Branches and leaves
that yesterday touched sky,
every kind of wind and light -
haven to birds, squirrels and minikin
creatures, now occupied the darkened
street. The standing towering half
must wonder why this is so.
My hand tenuously brushed over leaves,
before several stories high,
now a moving, unmoving wave,
still beautiful auraed in green.
Still beautiful and unusual on
the cement, like sky on ground.
Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia
All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.