2 poetry

Life’s Evening

The book she reads grows ever darker,
the light surrounding blinks and fades.
She counts her blessings, heeds the birdsong
as the book in her hands grows ever darker.
She decides to set it aside, for living,
breathes scents of violets, lilacs and roses,
closes the book she was reading. Growing darker,
the light surrounding blinks and fades.

Bone Flute

A flute lies
tucked among decaying oak leaves
in the lee of a rotten log
Carved from bone
weather-stains brown
around each breath hole
You cradle it in warm hands
wipe the debris on your jeans
Lift the flute to soft lips
Fill the woodland
with living sound

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