A Morning Poem

The wind blown trees
Make the rustling of leaves
Fill the wood with sound
From the top to the ground.

Birds of the morning flitter and fly
Singing songs to nature, telling it hi.
Squirrels race about, going to and fro,
Hiding nuts away for an upcoming snow.

Bursting from the horizon come the sun’s rays,
Painting vibrant colors on a new dawning day.
A palette of orange and red on the sky,
A glorious morning, a new sunrise.

-April 20, 2010

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