Poem

BLACK BOUGHS


Black boughs paint
Against the sky,
Silhouettes
That come and die.

Sun sets low
The day at rest.
Night creeps on
An unseen guest.

Day light breaks
A lone sun beam.
Morning wakes
A dewy green.

Life looks up
All misty eyed,
As if the night
Had tossed and cried.

Mid day splendor
Of blue veneer,
With warming sun
And shadows sheer,

Press on toward
The edge of night,
With boughs of black
Against the light.


C.G.S.