Light as a feather
Heavy as the dark
Cool as the rainstorm
Not leaving a mark.
Soft as a whisper
As clear as glass
What is this thing
Moving cross the land?
It has not a body
No feet nor legs
It calls out my name
As I reach out my hand.
Light as a feather
Heavy as the dark
Cool as the rainstorm
I leave not a mark.
Now I'm calling out
I call to my friend
The one I belong with
Who's holding my hand.
We are the shadows
Hear our soft call
We are the shadows
Hear one and all.
YOU ARE READING
Book of Poems
PoetryJust a book of some of my poems. Rosebud was my first poem ever. Other than that I don't know the order. *************************************************************************************
