after everyone had gone,
the underbrush twiggy and bare,
nothing to offer comfort there.
I sought my solace in the sky.
It having no wise words to share,
the more alone was I.
And I am tired
from all the years,
of wandering this vale of tears.
Yet still green meadows will I seek,
there to await the sunny morn,
that follows every season bleak
as it has since I was born.
I ask in turn the star-flung sky:
what and how and when and why?
It has no words to comfort me.
I must become the bitter tree
that bears sweet fruit for all to see,
in hopes they'll thus
Not sure where this little ditty popped up from.
Dont worry, kids, I'm fine. Just a bit tired.
I am linking this to Poets United's Poetry Pantry this Sunday - do stop by. There is always a lot of great reading on Sunday in the Pantry!