Battlefield Highway Morning Mist
Morning ray, ethereal mist,
first-light prayer
Softly blanket the newly cut meadows;
Baby-pink whispers of daybreak shadow
Shear-lace cover exposed forms and despair;
haunted whispers echo secrets of holler affairs
below treetops and pinnacle plateaus
thistle-down break through, dancing to tempo
amethyst heads unveiled into thin air.
The wicked wind breaks across trace narrows
Swelling with gust and sigh, the seeds travel;
The struggle witnessed by eye of sparrow
Levitating cotton cross damp gravel;
Feeding the soul and strengthening the marrow
tangled tight but for slumber unravel.
2 thoughts on "Battlefield Highway Morning Mist"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
the “wicked wind” is in cahoots amplifying those “holler affairs”
LOL – yes and we all have a few of these cahooters in our lives, don’t we?