"On the highway to Orillia"
My eyes watch trees
and telephone poles,
gas stations
and gravel,
marches, flowers, fields of grass
in many shades of autumn.
And I see old flourmills,
their roofs a rusty moss.
I will take these all with me
over every border that we cross.
YOU ARE READING
An Alchemy of Words
PoésieA collection of my poems, both old and new. Notable Rankings: 1 in #poetsofwattpad (2021-06-01) 1 in #poetryclub (2021-06-01) 1 in #poetrycommunity (2021-06-18) 1 in #slampoetry (2022-04-13) 1 in #wattpadpoets (2022-04-13) 1 in #wattpadpoet (2022-04...