Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Trees

What self-clothed soul could hope to charm
These tall and naked lives?
What monarch did so little harm
And told nobody lies?

They patiently outwait our madness,
Patiently persist,
Unequipped for sadness,
Unminded to resist.

© Larry Haworth April, 2016

1 comment:

  1. Very nice Larry. I like this one a lot. Reminds me of that forest we used to walk in by your place on Ling.

    EN

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