The Afternoon’s Print.

I stood over the ledge

and watched the whole scene merged, –

There, the red flower emerged with a couple of it’s siblings,

Feet deep in the same niche,

All feeling the one breeze;

And dancing in the direction of it’s wish.

          Comb-like hands with leaves for grips

               Stand out tall in the shadow of the bridge.

                     Flat round-bottom that look like pines

                         Seemed like the elite in this fleet of greens.

This fleet that I speak,

sits two feet above where i ground my feet

As they feed off the sun’s piece,

Waving at me as they make my thoughts sing.

 

 

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