Winter wanes, the dark shape sways, high above the trees.
Piercing eyes gaze down below
as the wind howls, breaking free.
I fed you, coveted you. Don't leave me, weakness said.
Fickle is nature, you guard this copse, the graves of the undead.
This is your feast, shadows loom and close.
You cry a Piercing caw.
Loud it echoes in decaying stench, the shadows creep no more.
You sense departing, you swoop from high.
You drop a trinket passing by,
it's time you know to say goodbye.
YOU ARE READING
Happier a little sad.
PoetryThe book title poem, happier a little sad is a reflection of when find that if I am totally carefree, which isn't very often! That I do not get any inspiration for writing poetry. I wrote this poem that explains it. *********************************...
