I found this old poem that I wrote when I was maybe 10. It really spoke to me, so I put it in here.
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Through the high hills and valleys of stone
From the youngest child to the oldest crone
The falcon sees all, knows all
High in its tree branches,
Watching.
YOU ARE READING
Stardust
PoesiaWe are all made of Stardust Though we know it not We are all the same. Not diffrent. We are all one. - A collection of poems about the natural world. All poems are created by me. Cover made by me! Updated Wednesdays and Saturdays.
