Void of Sound

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A winter scene in poem.

Submitted: October 25, 2016

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Submitted: October 25, 2016




The snow drifts find their place upon the ground,

On the Park bench, the light pole, void of sound;

The frosty blanket covers brush and trees,

Drifting softly through the park on winter's breeze.


I see faces in a cold and snow bound tree

As I set on the park bench, meant for me.

I cast my eyes to set the Raven in my sight

As the Raven seeks some warmth upon the light.


No one sees me, I am phantom, I am shadow,

I am the whispers telling secrets in the Willow.

You'll see my footprints making outlines as I go

And then they fade again with every flake of snow.


And still the snow is drifting through the air,

But I am warm within my blanket that I share.

I share it with the phantom and the shadow

Who whispers secrets to the Raven that I know;

Telling tales of wisdom, want, and woe.


D. Thurmond / JEF


© Copyright 2018 D. Thurmond, aka, JEF. All rights reserved.

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