Stillness
I am running now.
Running through the woods.
I don't travel any path.
Going zig-zags and circles.
I run.
The blur of darkness
and leaves and the smell
of dirt, of soil, fades.
The constant moving
stops.
For I have reached
my meadow
of stillness.
--by Petunia Moon, 2006, age 9--
3 Comments:
At 6:54 PM,
Left-handed Trees... said…
Your poetry sings sweetly to me. I love you, my little moonbeam.
--Mommy--
xxxxoooo
At 12:22 PM,
Deb R said…
I came over from your mom's journal to read your poem and I think it's beautiful!
At 10:38 PM,
Deirdre said…
Your Mom is right. You are a brilliant writer.
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