Grandpa's wooden sign hung on the oak at the top of the hill for thirty years. "What is kale?" I finally asked.
Sometimes the sweepingminute hand, forgotten,attains a goal, unseen.
Risa - Wow!It's much much too lateto respond with a haikuhalf as beautiful.
Too late: a themepoets love to try,dreaming tall grassheavy with wind.:)
Sometimes the sweeping
ReplyDeleteminute hand, forgotten,
attains a goal, unseen.
Risa - Wow!
ReplyDeleteIt's much much too late
to respond with a haiku
half as beautiful.
Too late: a theme
ReplyDeletepoets love to try,
dreaming tall grass
heavy with wind.
:)