A travelling poet
gulping spring sunshine.
A chance to dodge
the withered grass,
washed white from
songs of the old days.
Now, only firefly viewing
and harsh sounds
of sunflower silence.
I wait…..
for summer to come.
Springs exodus
A Wandering Poet
As I walk around I like to record what I experience. Through poetry, ideas and thoughts I hope I can share some of these experiences with you.
A Wandering Poet 