
cloudless sunset,
spun gold at the horizon,
Irish twilight
Copyright 2023 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
cloudless sunset,
spun gold at the horizon,
Irish twilight
Copyright 2023 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
February glumps and glooms.
Evergreens don snowy costumes.
Swansdown swirls in the frosty dawn,
and the wind’s song is woebegone.
Copyright 2023 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
memories flash,
silver fish in the shallows
river-cold then gone
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clouds on Mount Greylock,
ever-changing layers of
dark and light
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lonely stretches
of shorn grass except high up,
birds
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out of the rain and snow,
laughing away long dark days
beside the tree
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Do you see the moon?
the moon, the mountains
the misty light at sunset,
is this why birds fly?
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Mount Greylock, Massachusetts, U.S.A.
wringing out
a rain-soaked t-shirt,
my son smiles
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unescapable
dramatic tide of dark clouds,
the first drop falls
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still sidecars
no schedule or passengers,
just ghost conductors
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no matter how grand
every wall falls to wind, storm
and time
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grey stones strung with red,
the River Fergus ripples
with silent ghosts
Copyright 2022 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading