Uponmy wakening,
sunshining through the leaves,
Itaste the maple sap,
thecrisp Autumn breeze.
Myfeet stand me up,
controllingtheir own,
Ipeer all around,
nocivilization shown.
OnI will walk,
throughbrush and over logs.
Acrossthe crystal creek,
apack of ancient dogs.
Mylegs keep in time,
withNature's metronome.
Ahowl, a hoot,
avocal telephone.
Throughoutthe day,
andinto the night.
Thesun, moon and stars
saveme from dark, and from fright.
Theedge of my vision,
itslowly starts to blur.
Awhoosh sounds nearby,
aflash of red fur.
Iglance to my left,
andbeneath a branch of hawks,
standsa magnificent,
redcolored fox.
Myhand reaches out,
myvision fading fast,
untilit's all black,
mystrength wouldn't last.
Uponmy wakening,
thescent of baked goods.
Irealize, my dream,
wassimply a walk in the woods.
YOU ARE READING
Burnt Memories
PuisiA collection of poems written by myself. If some seem to be less descriptive or meaningful than others, it may be one I had written back in 2012. I might even pull out some from 2008, when I was seven and eight years old. So yes, that means I am...