Postcard Poetry Fest: 8.18.13

The forests of the past blend, bend into the forest of the present, different trees, different weather, memories hopscotching across time and a poem arrives.



Photo Credit:  google images

The hem of her skirt catches burrs

as she races from the field

mounded with red ant hills.

She Jumps over cactus,

hides under Ponderosa,

heart racing.

   She remembers how others died.

   He must not die.


      C.J. Prince



About cjprinceauthor

I write. I read. I write and read...I listen to raindrops on begonias, talk to ravens, dance with dragons. I practice Tai Chi in a barn, I sleep with earth stones and tarot cards. I celebrate each day. Join me!
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