Tuesday, October 19, 2010


the air whips
on delicate blades of grass
the sun's rays glisten


the wind whispers
as it passes 
in long quick steps

come with me
it says
as it walks on


the blades kick back
mother nature letting go

at ease

another step
grabs hold
and pulls

come again with me

then another quick release

w i n d s w e p t

are you thinking "gold" for tomorrow?